


The Alchemist's Daughter

by melanoms



Series: Alchemy & Magic [1]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cloak of Levitation (Marvel), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt Loki (Marvel), Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Torture, Jealous Loki (Marvel), Mutual Pining, Odin’s Bad Parenting, Reader Has Powers, Reader-Insert, Steve Rogers Is a Good Bro, Timeline What Timeline, Trauma, conscious relationships, feel your feelings, going for wholesome not emotionally constipated, loki gets kinda woke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:01:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 26,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22576735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melanoms/pseuds/melanoms
Summary: Your magic is unparalleled in its power across the known universe. Unfortunately for you, it makes you a target for attack as different planets try to study or weaponize you. In hopes of living a peaceful life, you make a deal with Death to forget your powers.He cryptically sends you to a nearby planet upon the request of other higher powers. On Earth, you meet the God of Mischief himself. The two of you, along with Steve Rogers and Stephen Strange, are set with the task of stopping a sadistic killer from attaining immortality. Can you and Loki change enough to become the team the world needs to stop this man's attempt to become a god?
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Reader, Stephen Strange & Reader, Steve Rogers & Reader
Series: Alchemy & Magic [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1628884
Comments: 10
Kudos: 112





	1. A Deal with Death

You were running. _Again._

The pounding of your feet and panting of your breath was echoed by the footsteps of a small army behind you.

It felt like you had spent centuries running. You couldn’t remember a time that you weren’t running from someone or something.

Frankly, you were running out of places to hide. You were playing the same story on repeat. 

You wanted a fresh start. You wanted to stop running. You’d find a new pocket of the Universe to find refuge in and tried to lay low. Until _something_ inevitably revealed your powers.

A child in danger. An overly aggressive man. A dessert that tasted like heaven in your mouth.

Yeah, you weren’t particularly proud of that last one. But you were still learning how to control your powers at the time.

Once you were outed, someone always wanted a piece of you - of your power. And then, you started running; staking out a new corner of the Universe to start over in.

But you thought this time was _different._ You thought that by hiding away in a world with greater familiarity with magic, this Asgard, you would be less of a commodity. And yet, here you are.

Running. _Again._

You didn’t even _do_ anything to reveal your powers this time. It’s like they _felt_ your presence from the moment you arrived. Once the King heard of your whereabouts, he sent a small army to capture you.

_Real original, Odin. Don’t take a girl for a drink before you try to steal her magic. Has chivalry truly died?_

You easily gathered his name from the overly compensating battle cries of his soldiers. Hopefully, you’d never have to meet the man.

As you were running, you spotted a seemingly deserted hut. You turned a corner and quickly confirmed that there was no one inside thanks to the small size of the single room abode. You could hear the sound of soldiers darting past you as you caught your breath.

_All this power and yet I still have zero cardiovascular strength. Figures._

You knew that you could get out of this particular situation. You always could. Even if they captured you, experimented on you, tortured you, you could always get out. Sometimes, you would let them. Just to see what they wanted from you.

But, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get out of THIS. This never-ending cycle of running from the rulers, the armies, the scientists who wanted you for themselves. Actually, who wanted _your power_ for themselves.

Which is when you decided...

_If I want to break this pattern, I’m going to have to do something different._

You took a deep breath. The exhale felt like a sweet release of peace that you haven’t felt in a long time.

_They only want my powers. They do not want me. I was told these were a gift and that I should honor them. But if I ever want to live a peaceful life, I have to leave my magic behind._

You closed your eyes. Your jaw relaxed at the simple gesture. 

“I need to talk to you,” you whispered firmly; hoping that he would show.

When you opened your eyes, there he was before you: Death himself.

\---

The first time you met Death, you learned a spell to summon him. It was one that you stole from a redheaded witch from that world. 

You asked him to kill you. You asked him to end the cycle because you could never do it yourself.

But he refused. He said that it wasn’t your time and claimed that it would upset the “natural order” if he removed your presence from the fabric of the Universe.

You begged Death for relief. You pleaded to him that you had to end this cycle of misery and loneliness. Centuries of running taught you that you could only ever be by yourself.

In the midst of your hopeless sobs, Death seemed to take a small ounce of pity on you. 

“The time will come when you know how to break this cycle. When you realize it, you may call me,” he said with calm, calculated certainty.

You looked to him between tears and nodded slowly. You felt a warm energy radiate through your body. It was a foreign feeling, but still comforting.

“I’ve placed a single summoning spell within your soul. When the time comes, you will know. You may call upon me by simply asking for me. I will be there.”

Before you could thank him, he was gone.

\---

You inhaled sharply as you looked Death in the eyes again. He nodded to you in acknowledgment.

“You said I could call on you when it was time to break the cycle. I know how to do that,” you said. Your words sounded certain. But the slight waver in voice told otherwise.

“Oh really? And how do you plan to do that?” Death asked with genuine curiosity. 

“I need you to take my power.”

Death signed and glanced down. He looked to you with somber eyes and a quick flash of pity.

“I can’t do that,” he said.

“B-but why not?” you stammered. “These powers are the only reason I’m being hunted everywhere I go. I would be just fine without them. I would be normal. I would be _safe_ ," you begged him.

The tears started to well in your eyes. Your second meeting with Death felt all too reminiscent of the first.

“These powers are a gift. A gift to _you_ , (Y/N),” Death affirmed.

“They’re a CURSE,” you snarled. You couldn't imagine having to this for eternity. “These powers have brought me nothing but heartbreak, pain, and misery," you concluded.

“Don’t,” he said sharply. If it was possible, Death was offended by your attempt to dismiss your magic. “Don’t diminish what was given to you. Don’t diminish who you are. You have a place in all of this. But it will be revealed to you in its own time,” he said cryptically.

You were slightly taken aback by the sudden curtness of his tone. You thought you had it “right” this time. You thought you had the fix. Now, you were answerless and had one fewer speed dial summoning to Death.

Seeing your internal struggle, Death decided to offer his own solution, “I cannot take your power away. That is not for me or you to decide. However, I can make you forget it.”

You cocked your head to the side as a way of asking him to explain more.

“I can place a wall inside your mind that will make you completely forget the power you bestow. It will still live within you. However, you won’t be able to use it intentionally if you don’t remember it. It will give you time to understand who you are outside of your magic," he informed you.

You gave him a small nod. Your eyebrows furrowed as you were contemplating his offer. _Would forgetting your magic be enough to keep you safe?_

Death continued, “However, this won’t account for if you use your magic accidentally. If you were under great distress, your body might activate your powers as a defensive response. If this is the case, the wall will fall. Your magic and all memories attached to it will come through.”

You felt your inner emotional waters calming. This felt like the best solution you had.

You looked him in the eyes and asked, “Could you make two walls? One to make me forget my magic. The other to forget the memories. That way, if I accidentally use my powers, I won’t have to remember everything that’s ever happened to me because of them.”

Death chuckled in amusement. Emotional repression seemed to be a “thing” for the earthly creatures he kept encountering. He looked at you with a soft smile, “ _That_ I can do.”

You nodded in agreement and felt a rush of relief through your body.

He walked up to you and said, “I’m going to send you off this planet. You’ll have a new life and a few false memories to help you acclimate. I'm actually sending you that far from here. You managed to get just a few planets, and years, away from where you’re supposed to be.”

You opened your mouth to ask more questions about the last sentence he said. But before you could ask more about “where / when you’re supposed to be” and what he knew of you and your fate, everything went white.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! This is my first fic. It will be a slow, intentional build. I'll add more tags as I go. So excited to see what happens!


	2. Feeling Powerless

The screen was practically mocking you.

“Current balance: $5.32”

_Ughhhh. Why am I always so damn broke?_

You shook your head and chucked your phone back on the bed. Doing online tarot readings was not nearly as successful as you thought it would be. Sure, your readings are always eerily on point. You’re successful _enough_ that you’re somehow still in business. But it doesn’t help that you’re stuck in one of the most expensive places on the planet: New York City.

For years, you tried to get out. But whenever you thought about moving, something mysteriously kept you magnetized to this island. You’d book a fancy private event or get just the right advice from a stranger that set off a lightbulb moment in your head. 

You feel it in your gut that you’re supposed to be here. And when your mental willpower wasn’t feeling strong enough to look at single-digit bank accounts, you’ll never forget the time you literally tripped over $222...just enough to cover the rest of your rent that month.

It was pretty cool when you thought about it. Almost like the Universe was looking out for you. Then again, it sometimes felt like a curse; this mysterious force dancing and mocking you. It kept you financially alive just long enough to always feel broke.

You heard your phone buzz and picked it up. Seeing the sender, you immediately rolled your eyes. 

_What do you want_ **_this time_ ** _?_

Probably not the response you should have towards your best friend. Well, “best friend” felt like a loose term. But the person you allowed yourself to be the closest to. For some reason, it always felt like the people always wanted something from you. Something like…

“Can you come over here to meet today? I know I said I’d meet you at your place. But I’ve just got so much going on. It would really help if you could come down here.”

You wrinkled your nose in frustration. Every time, you’re the one brunting the burden of the commute. It feels like you have to fit yourself around her busy plans all the time - but you’re never one of them. Yet, whenever you bring it up to her, somehow she makes _you_ feel bad for asking for things to be different.

Almost instinctually, you started typing back, “No problem! Always happy to help you out. Can’t wait to see you!”

Your thumb hesitated over the send button as your stomach twisted in a knot. 

_Why am I doing this? Why am I always accommodating her?_

You let out a frustrated sigh. You couldn’t tell if you’d rather deal with your inner turmoil and the sick feeling in your stomach that always accompanied your people pleasing...or risk a fight with her once again.

Suddenly, a thought rumbled from deep within your psyche; almost as if it wasn’t from you.

_If I want to break this pattern, I’m going to have to do something different._

While slightly startling, the thought made sense. You took it’s (your own?) advice and decided that you wouldn’t be overly accommodating or passive aggressive like usual. Instead, you simply responded, “Can’t today. But we’ll reschedule!”

The knot in your stomach eased up. That was easier than you expected.

With your day suddenly free and entirely yours, you started getting dressed. You decided to check your email to see if any new orders came through. Digging your laptop out of your bag, you noticed a small envelope in one of the side pockets.

You opened it up. Your curiosity piqued when you noticed the card wasn’t entirely flat. 

“Thanks for making our event divine! Here’s a little trinket to bring some magic to your own journey.”

You looked at the gifts inside and broke into a beaming grin: a $100 gift card to a fancy local restaurant and a little golden nugget to add to your crystal collection. You noticed the small paper slip that said

“Gold: Symbolic of the indestructible, adaptable, and eternal. Brings illumination, healing, and magic.”

Another blessing from the Universe.

“Today, I live like a rich woman!” you exclaimed, triumphantly holding the gift card in the air.

\---

You took the fateful last bite of your dessert. It tasted like absolute heaven. Your waiter came to the table to check if there was anything else you needed.

“No, thank you. Everything was wonderful,” you confirmed before he left to grab your bill.

You leaned your forearms on the table, clasping your hands together, and released a soft exhale. It felt so good to take good care of yourself. After a gentle moment to look out the window, you reached for your bag to grab your gift card.

You just pulled out your wallet when you were interrupted by the sounds of screaming, car alarms blaring, and metal crashing. The most your body could react was with dilated pupils and stiffened spine. Before you had a chance to respond, a man flew through the window of the restaurant just a few tables down.

People scattered like a drop of vinegar in oil; screaming as they ducked to avoid flying shards of glass. You scuttled behind the bar for cover still peering around the corner with equal curiosity and terror.

A man walked through the broken window who you instantly recognized as Captain America. Trouble always seems to follow this guy. Or does _he_ go looking for it?

“We don’t have what you’re looking for. It’s time for you to go,” he said sternly to the man lying in a pile of glass.

“He knows it’s here! It’s on this planet. It’s even in this city. He _knows._ Your lies won’t stop him from finding the weapon,” the man hissed. 

You noticed two more men walk through the window. One with long, jet black hair dressed in green and black. The other with shorter dark hair in deep blue robes and a quite ravishing maroon cloak.

_Great, more white guys here to represent all of Earth’s defenses._

“I am the God of Mischief and Lies. I can confirm he is not lying. Now leave! You are not welcome here,” the first man sneered. 

“Oh, there is no god except for Virdeus. I serve him and him alone,” Virdeus’ minion spat.

“Please, don’t make this into a conversation about religion with the three of us. It will go nowhere,” the man with the cloak deadpanned.

The minion stood up with a cruel gleam in his eyes. He snickered and said, “you will all pay for this. Unfortunately for one of you, it will be right now!”

Before you could blink, he was enveloped in a cloud of black smoke. The three men looked around waiting for something to happen once they saw the man disappeared amidst the smoke.

“Hm. The man has a peculiar sense of time,” the apparent God of Mischief chuckled.

What he hadn’t noticed was the chandelier above his head that was just about to fall. Only the ornate crystals transformed to long, horrifically pointed needles. 

You didn’t realize what you were doing until it was too late. Almost instinctually, your body flung you across the room. You only had a split second to think.

_What am I doing? How can I even help these guys? I’m only armed with me and what not-Virdeus God has given me!_

Right as you stumbled next to the God of Mischief, the demonic chandelier fell. You stiffened waiting for your impending and agonizing fate. But instead of the searing pain of needles piercing your flesh, you flinched in a startled fright at the sound of the crashing chandelier.

You released a sharp exhale and looked up to see this man staring at you in an entrancing, yet unsettling gaze. Simultaneously, you broke eye contact and slowly looked upward to see the two of you encapsulated in some sort of energetic field.

A golden, glowing energetic field.

The chandelier in pieces around you both.


	3. Challenge Accepted

Virdeus paced around his chambers in frustration. He couldn’t understand why no one was able to give him what he wanted. _Ever._

He impatiently threw himself onto his throne. It was a pitiful excuse for a chair. He wasn’t a mere king. He was a god. But, of course, he had to settle for the physical restraints of this world: a world he was clearly too good for.

His mouth ticked as he clenched his jaw with an unforgiving tightness. Perhaps he could dispose of the recent recruits who failed him. _But what would be the point?_ He’d only have to find new ones. Honestly, it would be more trouble than it was worth. Because, at the end of the day, the story always ended the same way.

_Everyone would always let him down._

He couldn’t trust anyone but himself.

\---

Looking at the protective, golden aura around you, you felt dumbstruck. Not at the presence of this clearly life saving ability. But the fact that you hadn’t used your powers all these years.

The moment it showed itself, it was so... _obvious._

Of course you had magic. You could create an impenetrable energy field. You could heal others. You could manipulate light and even use it to travel. _Why is this all coming back to you right now?_

You thought you were helping the world with online tarot readings. But the whole time you were sitting on **this** _motherload_ of power. You felt badly for not using these powers to make a bigger impact. 

_Wait. Was it fair for you to feel badly for not using a gift you didn’t remember you had?_

Now, you were diminished to twiddling your thumbs in a conference room in Stark Tower. You watched three egotistical bastards arguing outside the glass walls.

“The girl’s powers clearly extend beyond your capabilities. I will take her to Kamar-Taj where I am actually equipped to better understand her,” the man you now know is Stephen Strange demanded.

“Pfffft. Beyond my capabilities? What are you going to do? Teach her card tricks?” Tony Stark egged him on.

“No, she possesses a type of magic that I have never seen before. Just because you can’t understand it, doesn’t make it any less powerful or less real. It is my responsibility to ensure that she isn’t a threat. And I can’t do that with you getting in my way.”

As Tony tried to decide on which nasty jab to come back with, Steve nervously interjected, “Guys, we’re all on the same side here. Let’s calm down and focus on the big picture.”

_Okay, maybe they aren’t all egotistical._

Strange and Stark rolled their eyes. The only time they agreed was a gesture of body language.

You quickly grew tired of these men acting entitled to you and your magic. Truthfully, it was a courtesy that you even waited for them. Something about these powers ignited newfound confidence inside you. It's like you tapped into an ancient wisdom. You knew that you could leave at any time. They’d be bickering too much to even notice you travel through a light beam.

Before you could consider the ramifications leaving, your thoughts were interrupted by someone behind you.

“Children aren’t they?” a silken voice inquired.

You quickly swiveled your chair to see who materialized behind you.

He cocked an eyebrow at you, noting your inquisitive look, then continued, “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Loki. God of Mischief, Prince of Asgard, and undyingly curious as to why you are here.”

He leaned forward and stared straight into your eyes. _Is this a competition? Challenge accepted._ You stared straight back and refused to break eye contact. 

Inside, you felt a strange pull in your heart; an unknown magnetism that drew you to him. But you quickly buried it in sarcastic defense.

“Well, when a man and a woman _really_ love each other they make a baby. And _that_ is the great cosmic **why** I am here,” you snipped.

Loki’s eyes widened as he ignored your comment. He was surprised by your willingness to match his gaze. Having someone challenge him so easily and intimately was a _foreign_ sensation. It was one that he became quickly intoxicated by; remembering your first encounter.

The corners of his mouth upturned in a mischievous grin. Your heart started to beat faster as your fingers tightened to grip the metal armrests of your chair. The tension in the air was so thick yet fragile.

Tony took a moment to pause from his verbal sparring with Stephen and turned to see the two of you in the conference room. 

“Shit! How did he get in there? Now we have to deal with her having eye sex with Loki!” he raised his hands in frustrated defeat. 

Stark, Strange, and Rogers filed into the conference room and stood around the table to stare at you and Loki. Crossing his arms over his chest defensively and tilting his head, Tony said, “We don’t know what to do with you.”

“Is that the line you use on all the ladies, Mr. Stark?” you challenged him with a falsely innocent tone. You couldn’t help how their bravado brought out the audacious side in you. As you batted your eyelashes playfully, you didn’t notice the satisfied grin on Loki’s face.

“Great, like we need _another_ smart ass in this room,” Tony furrowed his brow and pinched his nose.

Taking thinly-veiled joy at Stark’s expense, Strange stepped in to further his agenda.

“Your magic. Where did you get it?” he asked sternly.

“Whole Foods. It’s organic,” you grumbled. Now it was your turn to cross your arms and roll your eyes. You were pretty fed up with their entitlement to you and all knowledge about your magic. 

Scanning the room you continued, “I’m not a threat to anyone. I don’t want to hurt people. My previous actions should have proven that to you. I’m also not here to serve you or your thirst for knowledge. If you’re not satisfied with my responses, that’s not my problem. I’m leaving.”

You quickly stood up from your chair and walked out of the conference room; ignoring the stuttering protests of Strange and Stark. Steve dashed after you hoping a different approach might get you to talk more.

“What if we could help you?” he called after you. You stopped in your tracks and turned on your heel to face him. 

“And what makes you think that I need your help?” you asked. You tried to cover your curiosity about the question but failed to completely quell your vulnerability. So you covered your tracks with another wall of defensiveness, “Gosh, you may not be as egotistical as those guys. But I can _feel_ the righteousness surging from you. How could you know how to help _me_? Know what’s best for _me_?”

You couldn’t let anyone help you. You didn’t know why. But you felt a pull in your gut that said it wasn’t safe. Maybe they’d let you down. Maybe they’d get hurt. You couldn’t pinpoint _why_ it felt completely unacceptable. But you couldn’t let anyone help you. No matter how much you desperately _wished_ that you could.

“You clearly have a desire to help people; to protect them. That’s why you saved Loki; something not many people can say they would have done. I have a feeling you want to do _more_ of that. But you haven’t been able to. Otherwise, we probably would have heard about you by now,” he responded. Even though there was a softness to his voice, you still couldn’t let down your walls. Not completely.

“You sit in this tower acting like you know people and making decisions for all of humanity. But you’re not even an integrated _part_ of it. How can you even know what people really need or really want from way up here? Do you know what the Tower card means in tarot? Inevitable destruction brought on by over-reaching ambition,” you said with a shaky voice. 

You wanted to give in to the kindness he offered you. Oh, how you _wanted_ to. Hands shaking, you turned back around to walk out. Only to come face-to-face with Loki. Apparently, materializing behind your back was becoming a thing.

Loki picked up where you left off, “The Tower also represents the opportunity to build anew, but with greater insight. The destruction allows you to uncover a hidden resilience within. I can certainly attest to being on the other side of the Captain’s righteousness and the looming egos of this group,” he said with unexpected gentleness. He looked down before continuing, “...and my own. Perhaps you are just the person we need to rebuild.” His eyes met yours briefly but once again turned down to the floor. 

_What happened to the relentlessly ungiving eye contact?_

Steve chimed in before you could respond. He slowly walked over and stood next to Loki.

He started, “I know what it’s like to want to make a difference and feeling powerless to do so. Maybe some of that difference you’re meant to make starts here with us. I’m sorry that you perceive us the way you do. It’s not entirely unfair. But I’ve always been committed to doing the right thing. And if your magic is as powerful as both Strange and Loki say it is, I would be failing myself and the people you could help if you walked out that door.” 

He was so strong and soft at the same time. Maybe attacking his righteousness did go a little far. It was serving him very well at this particular moment. You were curious about what the two magicians said of your own magic. But decided not to follow up. Instead, you felt your body relax at Steve’s emotional peace offerings of vulnerability and honesty. Because of those, you felt safe enough to meet him there.

“Okay, let’s talk,” you said with a soft nod.

Loki finally looked up to you at the sound of your acceptance. His face quickly displaced his previous display of vulnerability with a satisfied smile. 

Steve let out a breath that he apparently held in for some time; despite his inspiring monologue. You had a feeling this wasn’t his first and wouldn’t be the last. He looked at you and said, “Good. We can help each other. It’s what we do.”


	4. The Golden Lotus

“Oh my gosh! I am so so so sorry. I really thought you were going to dodge that,” you profusely apologized. You rushed over to Steve who now wielded a severe burn mark on his shoulder from one of your light beams.

“S’okay. I’ve definitely had worse,” he grunted out; failing to hide how much it actually hurt.

You placed your hand merely centimeters over the burn. Your magic glowed in a warm, golden light as you healed the result of your overly zealous sparring.

“Besides, with your ability to patch me right back up, I can do this all day,” he grinned as he grabbed your hand to stand up.

What you didn’t see was Loki walking by the door and muttering some ancient curse in disgust.

So far, you acclimated well to your new-ish life. You agreed to support the team on an as-needed basis. But if you wanted to go on missions, you had to do a little training. Naturally, you chose Steve as your go-to sparring partner.

Stark offered you a room in the tower. But after your initial criticism of their living situation, you chose to stay in your apartment. Thanks to your teleportation abilities, you could beam yourself into the tower whenever you needed to.

The first time that you and Stephen Strange transported to the living room at the same time, Tony freaked out. The room filled with a burst of orange sparks and bright golden light. He walked out of the kitchen grumbling that he’d have to start wearing darker shades indoors. Stephen barked after him that they would perfectly match the rest of his douchebag ensemble.

Strange tried to convince you to come with him to Kamar-Taj so he could better study your magic. But you refused to be his lab rat. You grew sick of rejecting him just as he tired of being rejected by you; even if it was for...magical science? Of course he took an overly scientific approach to the mystic arts. 

Eventually, you agreed to weekly visits to the New York Sanctum to mutually talk and practice magic. To Strange’s displeasure, you were making better friends with Wong and the Cloak of Levitation than him. On your first visit, you complimented Cloak and told it how you first noticed it in the restaurant all those months ago. Wong caught you laughing at the Cloak doing its own impersonation of Stephen and quickly got in on the fun. 

Although he probably would never admit it, Stephen was fond of your presence around the otherwise quiet Sanctum. He took a sudden interest in your healing abilities. But when you asked more, he quickly shut down and never brought it up again. 

_...and then there was Loki._

After your intense connection in the conference room, his open display of vulnerability, and (oh yeah) saving his damn life, you thought you’d get to see more of the God of Mischief. While you enjoyed talking about and practicing magic with Strange, you thought that Loki would have useful insight into your powers. Not to mention, you couldn’t deny the magnetic pull you felt towards him anytime he was nearby.

Somehow, over the past few months, he managed to evade being in the room with you for too long. He especially dodged being alone with you.

Unfortunately for him, his avoidant behavior only piqued your interest even more. You finally refused to play any more games with the Trickster. That day, you walked up behind him while he was reading.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” you said bluntly.

His book flew out of his hands as he whipped around to look at you.

“Don’t sneak up on a god like that!” he exclaimed.

_Was this guy for real?_

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. Raising an eyebrow, you asked him, “Why have you been avoiding me?”

“I’m not avoiding you. I simply have more important matters to attend to,” he responded curtly.

Apparently his previous admission of self awareness was fleeting. His ego was back in full swing.

“Besides,” he continued, “I’m not interested in watching you _fornicate_ with hundred-year-old men on a gym mat. I’ve had my share of living in the shadow of golden boys and I refuse to do it anymore.”

“Aren’t you like a couple of thousand years old?” you scoffed. “And for the record, it’s _man_ , not ‘men’ and there is no ‘fornication’ involved.”

“Sure, keep lying to yourself,” he said as he picked up his book from the floor. 

_This presumptuous little fuck._

You finally processed everything that he initially said. After a moment of thought, you looked at him with an inquisitive expression and asked, “Wait, golden boys?”

“I have better things to do than catch you up on the past few millennia,” he said with feigned disinterest and walked out of the room.

\---

That night, your dinner was interrupted by the Cloak of Levitation flying through a portal in your living room. It shook in front of you in an anxious state then gestured to the door.

“Something’s wrong?” you asked the relic. It quickly nodded. You asked if the trouble was at the Sanctum and it nodded again. You instantly picked up your phone to call Steve.

The moment he picked up the phone you started, “Something is wrong at the Sanctum. We need to get there now.”

“Okay, I’m on my way,” he quickly confirmed.

You grabbed hold of Cloak and beamed yourself to the Sanctum to find the entire entryway in complete disarray. You heard the sounds of shuffling, glass breaking, and Stephen shouting.

“We don’t have what you’re looking for. Please leave the relics here,” he pleaded.

You’d never heard him sound so helpless before. It was unsettling. You looked to the Cloak of Levitation and asked if _it_ specifically was in danger from these intruders. It gave you a third nod that made your stomach drop. You told it that you could beam it somewhere safe but it refused. It took enough convincing from Stephen to go get you. It wouldn’t leave both of you now.

You couldn’t go in there with Cloak knowing these people wanted it. But you also were running out of time to help Stephen. 

You turned to Cloak and said, “I’ve never done this before, but are you willing to give something a try?”

It gave you an open “armed” shrug of confirmation and you started manipulating the light around it. You managed to take the light particles surrounding Cloak and reflect the light back so it was, for all intents and purposes, invisible.

_Ha! A Cloak of invisibility._

Satisfied with your work, you quietly walked up the stairs and peered into the room where Stephen and Wong were held captive; bound to chairs by a rope with sigils painted all over it. 

“Virdeus won’t stop until he finds the Golden Lotus. No matter how much beg, sorcerer. He will find it and use it to rise to his final ascension,” a man handed a large vase to another minion who walked off and placed it in a giant box. The box was nearly filled to the brim with mystic items; some also tied with rope covered in sigils.

The minion who spoke - head minion? - was different than the man who flew through the restaurant window: the man who tried to kill Loki.

_Great, these assholes again._

“I can’t tell you enough, we have no Golden Lotus. We don’t even know what that is,” Stephen said with equal amounts of frustration and exhaustion.

“Ha! Some master of mystic arts you are. How could you not know of the Golden Lotus? It’s a weapon of immeasurable power. Indestructible, malleable, and with the power of resurrection. My god is already omnipotent. But with the Golden Lotus, he will be eternal,” the head minion sneered as he evaluated a blade and gave it to another minion to take away.

“Are you blind? That’s clearly not a _Golden Lotus_ ,” Stephen challenged with a tone of mockery at the end. The head minion walked over to him and crouched to meet his eye level. 

“We do not know the form of the Golden Lotus. It hides in plain sight. We can’t be too careful. Honestly, I’m surprised we hadn’t ransacked your pathetic operation sooner. Virdeus finally disposed of his idiot right hand. A man who I believe _you_ met a few months ago. Finally, he gave me the chance to prove myself and I instantly came across your treasure trove of magical items,” his words dripped like venom.

You tried to think of a plan. Free Stephen and Wong and fight? You couldn’t cut the rope with a light beam without possibly hurting them. Could you free them in time before these assholes caught you too? You didn’t know how many there were. A new one seemed to come and take each relic the head henchman approved of.

As you tried to formulate your different options, you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder and hand over your mouth. You looked back to see Steve right behind you.

_Finally, backup._

When you recognized who he was, he removed his hand from over your mouth. He leaned in to whisper in your ear. You could feel his breath graze your cheek and it made the hairs on your neck stand up. You felt a sudden familiar magnetism that also put your stomach in knots. 

_Steve...really? And now?_

“I’ll take out _this guy_ , you free _them_ , and we’ll get the rest of _these_ pathetic losers,” he gestured to each group with his eyes.

You nodded in confirmation. Before you could spend too much time wondering about the peculiarity of that moment, he charged in; effectively knocking out Virdeus’ new righthand man in one blow.

You rushed in and burned the sigils off the rope with a golden light. Then sliced through it with a light beam now that you were close enough to manage your precision.

Stephen was surprised to feel a sudden, familiar weight on his shoulders. As he looked around trying to find where it came from, you quickly released the light particles surrounding Cloak to reveal it.

“Look out!” Wong shouted at you. You spun around to see the blade that the minions stole flying towards your face. You effectively shot a light beam at it; turning it to ash. The minion who threw the blade stared at you with wide eyes. It looked like there were only five of them and four of you. Your team had infinitely more power. 

Understanding their odds, four of the minions disappeared in a puff of black smoke. But just as the blade-wielding minion was about to disappear, Steve grabbed him by the collar in a rage and attacked him.

You, Wong, and Stephen dashed over. To your mutual horror, you watched him start to pulverize this guy. He growled at the shrieking minion, “One of - the most powerful beings - in the Universe - and you try - to attack her - with a BUTTER KNIFE!”

You screamed at him, “Steve STOP! You’ll kill him!”

He freezes at the sound of your voice and the illusion breaks. The three of you stare at Loki dressed in full Captain America garb and panting in rage.


	5. Loki's Heart

Loki woke up that day not feeling well. It seemed to be every day since you agreed to work with the Avengers that he didn’t feel right. He was fascinated with you - entranced even. 

He felt a magnetic pull to you. But he always chalked it up to you saving his life and swallowed his curiosity. Certainly, you couldn’t feel the same way. You’ve shown him you don’t.

This was the day that you always came to spar with Rogers. While he hated to see you with that insufferably self-righteous man - a personal downfall that _you even admitted_ \- he couldn’t help but always walk by to steal a curious glimpse of you.

But as Loki walked by the open door to the training room, he saw you healing Rogers. He saw the kindness in your eyes and true remorse you had for creating his pain.

_Hmph. Remorse._

A feeling Loki was deeply uncomfortable allowing into his psyche.

He walked away muttering an ancient curse that you chose to entwine yourself with the Golden Boy Rogers. Cursing Rogers, cursing his own luck, and perhaps cursing his own avoidant patterns and cowardice.

But Loki wouldn’t let himself dwell on that last one.

Really, he should have known better. Saving his life was a chance happening. The moment you had in the conference room was heightened adrenaline. You choosing to involve yourself with _Earth’s mightiest heroes_ (he can’t even think that phrase without dripping sarcasm) was all Rogers.

He should be used to living in the shadow of a poster boy for heroism. But it didn’t make it any easier _this_ time. Even though he wished it would.

You finally decided to approach him. Even after months of avoiding you, you still took an interest in him. Loki's heart lept at your voice. But it quickly enveloped itself in a self-protective darkness. He couldn’t risk being vulnerable, being honest, and being open.

No matter how much he _wished_ he could.

So he insulted you. He belittled you. He pretended that _you_ were the problem. Although he couldn’t lie to even himself - God/He knows he tried - that _he_ is the one creating his own suffering.

But he heard you were in trouble. He wanted to help. He _promised_ to help all those months ago. Even though he didn’t explicitly say so. He considered himself to be part of your pact.

When Rogers hung up the phone, Loki managed to convince him to go in his stead. Claiming that an attack on the Sanctum was likely a mystical one and required magic to counter. _Not_ bumbling, brute force and inspirational speeches about freedom and honor.

He quickly backpedaled on that last comment realizing he’d have to play nice if he really wanted to help you.

And he did.

Really

Want

To

Help

 _You_.

Rogers begrudgingly allowed him to go and demanded to be notified if you needed any backup. Even though he didn’t fully trust Loki, he wanted to think he could when it came to you.

Loki was relieved, excited? even to get to help you; to _for once_ follow through on a promise to someone other than himself. 

He was relieved when he entered the Sanctum and saw you weren’t hurt.

He was relieved when you didn’t recoil at his touch.

He was relieved when you agreed with his plan of action.

...

He didn’t want you to know it was him. _But he did._ But he didn’t.

...

The moment your safety was threatened, his internal facade fell.

The moment he heard your voice, so did his outer one.

...

Loki woke up that day not feeling well. Not feeling well at all. 

What was he going to do?


	6. Human Magic

You thought your heart was about to beat right out of your chest. You felt lightheaded and blinked a few extra times to clear your eye sight. Suddenly, you saw a vision. 

_Was it a vision?_

A few scenes flashed through your mind’s eye. But these were clearer and more real than anything you’d seen doing tarot readings or meditating. You saw yourself running. Then using your light to beam a child out of a line of fire. The scene flashed to you radiating out a pulse of light after eating... _wait, was that cake?_

The movie in your mind quickly ended. Noticing your disorientation, Wong asked, “Are you okay?”

You had one hand on your forehead and shook your head as if to say no. But your mouth said, “Y-Yeah, I’m fine.”

You leaned down and healed some of the minion’s wounds and turned him over to Stephen and Wong. Now that Virdeus was more than a one-time annoyance, you all agreed that it was time to get some more information on this fabled God.

Loki looked like he was about to bolt from pure embarrassment. But you gave him a look and he figured it would be better to stay.

Your heart ached for him. His pain clearly overflowed when he didn’t have any defenses, magical or emotional, to hold him together.

“You don’t have to wear... _that_ anymore,” you said softly; gesturing to his patriotic attire.

“Oh right,” he said a bit aback by your unexpected kindness. Amidst the chaos of his own emotions, he forgot how he looked. Transforming into his typical dress, he tried to jest, “I said that I would never do this again.” But he could only muster a ghost of a smile.

After Stephen and Wong confirmed they would be okay, you walked over to Loki. He expected to see disgust or anger on your face. But he was met with concern: it felt even worse.

“Are you okay to go somewhere and talk?” you gently asked him.

He nodded. You placed a hand on his upper arm and beamed the two of you to a beach.

It was mostly dark out and no one was around. You used a parking lot streetlamp as an entry point. You walked over to the water and sat on the shoreline. Unsure of what to expect from you next, Loki followed suit.

You sat in silence for some time. He used a stick to anxiously dig into the sand. You knew the silence made him uncomfortable. But, more importantly, you didn’t want to rush him. 

After an agonizingly long time, at least for Loki, he finally spoke up, “Well? Are you here to reprimand me? To tell me how disgusted you are? How betrayed you feel?”

You softly shook your head no.

“Then what? Why did you bring me here? What do you want from me?” he hung his head in exhaustion and took a deep breath. He waited for your rejection. He was used to fucking up. He was used to being abandoned, rejected, dismissed, and loathed. The fact that you sat there silently, while still feeling slightly _open to him_ , felt even worse. Because it gave him more to lose.

Then against all of his assumptions, assumptions built by over millenniums of personal evidence, you _surprised_ him. 

You placed an arm around his shoulders. He froze; unsure of what to expect from you. Then, you whispered softly in his ear, “I’m sorry that you’re hurting.”

At first, he was confused. This didn’t make any sense? He lied to you. He diminished you. Quite frankly, he was nothing short of an egotistical ass to you these past few months. He completely proved you and your doubts about him right.

But maybe it was the few breaths he took. Maybe it was the thousands of years of wearing masks and illusions. Maybe it was the pure exhaustion of trying to hold it together all the time. But against all of his natural instinct, Loki leaned into your embrace and accepted the space you created for him.

With a gasp, he let out a sob. And with his anxious consent, the floodgates opened to his pain.

He cried as you held him; crying out the pain he spent so much energy and so much time running from.

The pain of abandonment.  
The pain of rejection.  
The pain of not being good enough.  
The pain of not being chosen.  
The pain of his exhausting story.

He wasn’t sure if he could bear it all. But somehow, with you, he felt strong enough to finally accept himself and all that’s happened to him, for him, and because of him.

For the first time in his very long life, Loki felt completely safe to be himself and be with himself. It was thrilling, satisfying, and terrifying all at once. He met his pain like an old friend. He didn't have to hide from it anymore.

Loki kept waiting for you to take away this emotional security. But the long-awaited, familiar shoe of rejection never dropped. And he honestly didn’t know what to make of it. Yet, he chose to accept every moment of support you offered him regardless of how much it meant he could lose.

After an unknown amount of time, he pulled away from your embrace. His inner state was an emotional cocktail of embarrassment, relief, and anxiety served up in a heaping glass of exhaustion. You looked at him and, once again, waited for him to speak.

He wasn’t sure what just happened. It was one of the most magical experiences of his life while simultaneously completely and utterly human. Not that he would ever admit that to anybody. 

No power. No magic.  
Just _him_ ...with _you_.

While he silently vowed to spend the rest of his life thanking you, all he said to you was, “Thank you for that. Whatever it was.” He readjusted his position to help himself regain physical and emotional composure; letting out a few deep breaths to allow the final emotional waves pass through him.

You looked into his eyes. The magnetism between the two of you was stronger than ever. 

You smiled and said, “You’re welcome.”


	7. Until the End of Time

Virdeus was becoming more of a menace to the city by the day. While you never saw this alleged “god” himself, he sent hoards of minions to ransack every pawn shop, metaphysical store, or museum for the Golden Lotus. 

Depending on how big their target was, you could sometimes make it in time to stop the minions from committing more damage before they disappeared into a puff of black smoke. But overall, your leads looked bleak.

Stephen and Wong didn’t get much from Virdeus’ minion. They knew that Virdeus was completely unattached to his minions. But they still served him fiercely and desperately wanted to prove themselves; completely under his spell. It seems that he preyed perfectly on their vulnerabilities.

To his followers, Virdeus became the unattainable. They did everything in their power to win his approval and acceptance. But ultimately, they’d never receive it. Sometimes, you wondered if this was the conflict that Virdeus created for himself on both ends. Maybe the Golden Lotus _was_ just an unattainable myth he created for himself to always be caught up in the chase.

_Hm. Very “Memento-esque”._

You spent more and more time at the tower, but refused to move in. Steve was nice enough to indulge you in an occasional tarot reading. Although his “good Christian boy” sensibilities mostly told him otherwise. You appreciated the gesture and didn’t push it _too_ much. 

You saw less of him as you decided to pursue Virdeus with Strange and Loki. Virdeus hadn’t become a big enough threat yet to involve all of the Avengers team. This allowed them to pursue their own missions. Although you missed getting to spend as much time with Steve, you knew it was the best allocation of resources. Still, you appreciated that he _always_ showed up to your sparring sessions on their scheduled days. Even if he was so exhausted from his own mission and the two of you just sat in the gym and talked.

You increased your Sanctum visits to two or sometimes three a week. Usually, you’d bring boba flavors to try with Wong or play charades with Cloak - activities Stephen said that he wasn’t interested in, but somehow always partook in. But nowadays, you spent most of your time scouring the library texts with Stephen looking for more information about the Golden Lotus.

Unfortunately, your visions turned into nightmares. You kept having dreams of running, hiding, and being hunted. You couldn’t quite figure out what they were. Moreso, you were terrified to tell anyone about them because it made them that much more _real_.

Whenever Steve noticed you were extra tired during your morning sparring matches, you blamed late-night library sessions with Stephen. And when Stephen caught you nodding off in a book, you blamed extra intense sparring with Steve. It was the perfect set up.

_Except for Loki._

Ever since your night on the beach, you were both a bit awkward towards each other. But you decided to face the awkwardness head-on by naming it.

He gave you a sheepish grin a few days later and you playfully shook your head and said, “Hey, I know that it’s awkward. But I’m good if you’re good?”

With relief, he let out a sigh and said, “Yes, I would like that very much. Let’s be good.”

Since then, you started doing a bit more training together. You figured if you ever came across Virdeus, you wanted to be well versed in fighting magic. You greatly enjoyed Loki’s company. Even ignoring the pounding in your heart and the magnetic pull you feel towards him, he was growing on you faster than you could understand. 

You guessed that he was feeling the same based on a suspicious number of burns he “accidentally” got from you during your sparring. All, of course, “greatly required” your healing abilities. Not that you minded giving him more of your attention.

You started noticing mysterious trinkets appearing in your home like scented candles or a cozy throw on an especially cold night. One time, you swear you saw a few chocolates materialize in an emerald glow while you were reading. Although you couldn’t tell if you were just sleep-deprived, hungry, or both. 

_Better eat some chocolate...just in case._

But as much as you delighted in being with the God of Mischief - hearing his stories of Asgard, his family, and finally understanding his Golden Boy gripe - you refused to let your own feelings take you anywhere. You couldn’t completely understand _why_ , but a part of you deep within screamed, begged, and pleaded not to be loved. She was so scared, so hurt. And even though you also desperately wished to be loved by this fascinating, entrancing, and sometimes insufferable God, you couldn’t betray that part of you. Even if you had no earthly clue where she came from...or why she was there.

Still, you couldn’t control your own feelings; only the outward manifestation of them. So you let them safely burrow inside of you; creating deeper, more intricate, open caverns in your heart. Your heart quickly became a living testament and tomb to your infinite tunnels of unrequited love.

Tunnels that you could never let fill.

It wasn’t safe.

\---

Finally, it was _his_ time to call you out on _your_ hiding. You were sitting on your bed with your nose was buried in a book about relics that you borrowed from the Sanctum. Loki spent the afternoon at your place that day; almost like a friendly ghost. You started to enjoy more time being in the presence of the prince; even if you weren’t directly engaging. Your bedroom door was open. So Loki walked in and sat on the edge of your bed.

“You’re not sleeping,” he cut right to the chase. Before you could answer, he cut you off, “ _Don’t_ try to tell me you’re fine. I know you’re not.”

You frowned. Reading and knowing people’s underlying shit was _your_ thing. It was not so fabulous being used against you. 

_This is what happens when you get close to people. Dammit._

“It’s just insomnia. It’s not a big deal,” you brushed him off and continued reading.

He looked at you with concern in his eye. He gently pulled the book from your hands and leaned in closer to rest a hand on your cheek. Of course, he was all too familiar with the feeling of pretending that nothing’s wrong. He wished that you too could trust and lean on him. Just like he was able to do with you. But he gathered you were more comfortable being the one to support others than allowing yourself to be supported.

“I know that’s not true. But I won’t push you. Whenever you’re ready, know that I’m here for you,” he said before bowing his head and walking out. His words hung in the air trying to tell you their multitude of meanings. If only he had seen the burning red flush of your cheeks, the swell of your heart, and your hand gingerly placed on your face where his had been.

\---

“We’re doing this wrong,” Stephen said in frustration.

You were walking around another pawnshop that was demolished by some of Virdeus’ followers. Fortunately, no was hurt. As desperate as they were, they avoided interaction with people at all costs. For the most part, they were mission-oriented; not killers. They only wanted the Golden Lotus.

“If I have to see another one of these useless minions disappear into a cloud of smoke, I will surely kill one...or all...of them,” Loki lamented. He closed his eyes and pinched his nose. “At least they’re clearly no good to _him_ either,” he said.

“What if that’s our problem?” you offered. The two men looked at you asking for more.

“They still haven’t found the Golden Lotus. They’re looking for it. We’re looking for it. We keep asking the same question: where? But what if we need to start asking different questions. Possibly a _who?_ ” you said thinking aloud. You furrowed your brow; hoping a fresh approach to your search could finally catch this guy and stop him from terrorizing the city. Not having your favorite crystal shops destroyed would also be a plus. 

You continued, “If this is such a fabled weapon of magic, surely there are other people who know something about it? Other people who might help us? Who would have connections or ties to magic like this?”

Stephen nodded in agreement. You could see the cogs in his brain working as he tried to think of alternative solutions to your mutual problem. You all agreed to start researching not just about the Golden Lotus, but of anyone who might have greater connections to it.

\---

One evening in the Tower you saw Loki reading in the living room and decided that you’d sit on the couch next to him and read. When he felt the weight of the couch shift, he looked up. He was grateful that his suspicions were correct and it was you sitting next to him.

The two of you read in comfortable silence. 

After you each devoured a good portion of your respective books, you placed yours down and looked over to him. You thought back to your night on the beach; his open display of utter vulnerability. Even though your stomach folded in knots at the thought of doing the same, you figured it was time for you to start opening up too. After all, vulnerability was a two-way street.

“I’m having nightmares,” you admitted; blurting out the words a bit less composed than they sounded in your head.

He looked up, closed his book, and nodded for you to continue.

“But they’re different from normal nightmares. They’re...they’re so _real_. I-I can’t fully explain them. In each one, I’m running from someone _hunting_ me for my magic. They want it to hurt me and other people. Sometimes they catch me. Sometimes they torture me. But I always escape and I’m back to running,” you said shaking your head. Why did these nightmares continue to haunt you? “In every one of them, I wake up feeling terribly alone. More alone than I’ve ever felt in all my life. At first, I was scared to sleep because the nightmares were exhausting. Now, I’m terrified to fall asleep because of how I’ll feel when I wake up,” you finished.

Ow. Admitting your predicament was hard. You hurt in all the feels.

“Darling, you must know how much you _aren’t_ alone. If you can befriend a sentient piece of fabric, you will always have someone,” he offered; unsure of how much of yourself you wanted to truly share with him.

“Yes, I know,” you chuckled. “I have more people in my life that I can count on than ever before. I play charades with that sentient piece of clothing. I even got the most reserved, stoic sorcerer in the known universe to try honeydew boba with me. _And he liked it_ ,” you emphasized for dramatic flair; not totally sure if you were referencing Stephen _or_ Wong. 

You continued, “I seriously have the poster boy for dependability and teamwork as one of my best friends. I’m never alone because I have the best people looking out for me. So why would I feel alone? Why would I feel so _hollow_ in this loneliness?” You raised your hands in defeat; slumping a little more on the couch.

“Just because you’re surrounded by people who want to help you, doesn’t mean you’ll truly let them,” he said with deep understanding. “And not to make this about me, _but to also completely make this about me_ , you forgot one very important person from your list,” he grinned smugly.

“I have you,” you whispered softly.

“I will sit next to you in your loneliness until the end of time,” Loki vowed by placing your hand in his.

You stared into his eyes. The intimacy of this gaze reminded you of that time in the conference room. And yet, this stare was different. Before, he wanted something from you. He hungered for a challenge. He wanted to prove himself; even if not to you. 

Like you taught him, your pain didn’t make you broken. He saw that. He hoped you would someday transmute your hurt into love: a love for _him_. But instead of hungering for more from you, his eyes completely accepted you as you are now; wanting to ask nothing more of your bravery in this moment.

_Maybe you could let the caverns fill. Maybe you could let just a little bit of love pour into that open, empty heart of yours. There certainly was the space for it._

But before you could check in with your scared, tormented inner self, the room filled with orange sparks and Stephen stepped through a portal.

“We found the alchemist. We need to go now,” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will I spend the next 48 hours in a writing frenzy? Probably. We'll see what happens next!


	8. The Alchemist

Strange transported you and Loki through a portal into an alley in Alexandria, Egypt. You followed him as he started explaining why you were there.

“In the first century AD, there was an alchemist known as Maria the Jewess. She’s actually credited with a number of groundbreaking discoveries and inventions that are still used today. Like many alchemists, she sought to create pure gold as a way to connect to the divine,” he said. He stopped at a small, run-down hut that was squished between two larger apartment buildings. Turning to you and Loki, Stephen finished his report, “She’s known as the mother of alchemy. And we found her apprentice.”

Stephen turned to knock on the door. It looked like it would disintegrate if he applied too much force. After a few moments, the door slowly opened revealing a tiny, shriveled man who _also_ looked like he would disintegrate under any external force.

“Hello, I am Dr. Stephen Strange. I’m here to talk to you about Maria the Jewess,” Stephen demanded.

“Oh, I think you have the wrong house, good sir. Perhaps you’re looking for someone from the Academy,” the man dismissed meekly.

“I do not have time to play games. We need to know everything about your work with Maria,” Strange retorted.

“P-please. I don’t want any trouble. I don’t know who you’re talking about. Now let an old man live in peace,” the apprentice mumbled as he started to close to the door.

You gently placed a hand on the door before it shut and looked at him with pleading eyes, “Please, we need your help. Someone terrible is trying to find the Golden Lotus. If he gets it, he will hurt _many_ people.”

The man’s eyes widened at the mention of the Golden Lotus. He hung his head in sadness then gestured with his arm for the three of you to come in.

\---

You all sat at a tiny round table as the apprentice poured tea for you. He started telling you about the alchemist.

“Mary was a brilliant scientist. While her heart could linger on the past, her mind was ahead of its time. I was fortunate to learn from her. She saw metals as living things. She thought them as male or female; even believing that they could die. Although death was not a final ending to her; merely a change in form,” he told you.

You sipped your tea and exchanged a glance with Loki. He decided to press the question you were all wondering, “Pardon my curiosity. But if your mentor lived in the first century, how are you - a mere mortal - still _here_?”

The apprentice looked at you with deep remorse.

“The answer to that question is the beginning of _my_ suffering,” he said. “While Mary was quite brilliant, I also sensed there was something else she knew. Or perhaps _someone_. I thought that she was working out her ideas with another. I asked her to tell me who, but she refused; claiming that everything was her own God-given inspiration.”

He continued, “If I knew what I know now, I wouldn’t have pushed. But I was young and reckless. I thought that if she wouldn’t let me in on her secrets, I’d have to search for them myself. While Mary was never that determined to achieve alchemic success for immortality, **I** was. I never told her my true intentions. So I started practicing on my own. Stealing supplies and research. I was completely consumed by a reckless, unattainable dream.”

The apprentice looked down at the table with small tears welling in his eyes. 

“Until I did it. I created a type of liquid gold in my wild pursuits. Overly eager, I drank it. But nothing happened. I thought that it didn’t work. But before I could continue my research, Mary caught me. She saw everything that I had stolen from her and threw me out,” he admitted with a sigh. 

His face contorted and showed his pain outwardly. He was remorseful for his past behavior, but continued his tale, “I never told her that I had any form of success. I just wanted to know that I had _beat_ her at her own game. So I kept the notes of that golden liquid and never used them. I was afraid I would be discovered and that I’d have to pay for my crimes. When Mary would come back from her nights with this _other_ alchemist, I heard her muttering something about a Golden Lotus. So I named my creation the Golden Lotus as a way to steal one final thing from her.”

You all looked at the man with intense curiosity. The literal evidence sat in front of you.

“But it _did_ work,” Strange stated. “Even though you didn’t feel the effects at the time, this elixir gave you immortality.”

“Yes, immortality in a body that is not made to be immortal. The blessing I thought I found was actually a curse. I figure it is just penance for my sins,” the apprentice lamented.

“And that’s what Virdeus is after: immortality. Although, he likely doesn’t know about its limitations,” you concluded.

Stephen and Loki nodded in agreement. The apprentice stood up and walked over to a cupboard where he took out an ornate box. He handed it to you and said, “please take it and destroy it so no one else can use it. I wanted to for years. But I couldn’t lose the only thing that I traded my whole life for.”

You relieved him of the box and opened it to see a single scroll. It was bound by golden wax with a lotus flower imprinted on the seal. You gently placed the box on the table; still open. Looking up to the weary apprentice, you said, “We will do right by you and your work” 

You tried to put the man at ease by channeling your inner Steve. It seemed to work as the apprentice smiled and shed a single tear; feeling the weight of his curse starting to lift.

Right as you turned to grab the box, the front door flew towards you. Stephen reacted just in time to put up a shied as the door splintered into pieces on impact. Standing in the entryway was Virdeus’ righthand man who destroyed the Sanctum. He was accompanied by what seemed like six of his own minions.

“Ha, I knew you idiots would lead us right to it. Why would we work so hard when we could let you do it for us?” he sneered.

Loki quickly grabbed the scroll from the box and hid it within his pocket dimension. The head minion growled in frustration as he watched the object of his desire disappear into thin air. As quickly as they entered, the small hut was torn to pieces as Virdeus’ followers attacked.

Stephen sent out energy pulses with his magic. But it only slowed these assholes down. You managed to knock out a few of them with light beams. Only to have them replaced by more bodies that filed into the room to attack. 

Just as you were about to beam a dagger into oblivion, another minion managed to get behind you. Before he could attack you, Stephen knocked him out. But not before another follower bound him with another sigil covered rope; rendering your sorcerer friend effectively useless.

_Fuck._

Loki was fending off his own hoard of pathetic attackers. He split into a few illusions. But the sheer number of them - _how were there so MANY of them_ \- started to overtake him.

This wasn't right. Something didn't feel right.

_You were...losing._

_Wait, how were you losing?_

As you started to move towards Loki to help him, you were pulled back by a rope around your throat. You quickly found yourself in the arms of the head minion; sending chills up your spine. He pressed a knife to your stomach and you gasped in surprise.

“Give us the scroll, Trickster. No one will get hurt and we will be on our way,” he said coolly.

The minions around Loki stopped their attack. He gulped at the sight of you in danger. 

“I-I can’t do that,” he tried to say confidently. But his heart failed him.

“Let me be clear. The rest of Virdeus’ followers are pathetic cowards. I, however, am much like the great God himself. I have no qualms hurting people to get what I want,” he said. He pressed the knife harder into your stomach almost breaking the flesh. “In fact,” he continued, “I’m one sadistic _fuck._ I’ll take great pleasure in slicing her up.”

You tried to tell Loki not to do it. But you couldn’t speak with this rope crushing your windpipe. Loki looked to you as if to apologize. Then he materialized the scroll into his hand in surrender. One of the nearby minions greedily snatched it right up. The rope around your throat relaxed. You coughed once the pressure was gone.

Loki rushed to your side as Virdeus’ followers walked out. Right before leaving, the head minion turned on his heel and said, “This is for not giving us what we wanted the first time, old man.”

It happened so fast. You didn’t even realize what was happening until it was too late. You watched helplessly as a dagger flew past your eyes and hit the apprentice straight in the chest. In the scuffle, you completely forgot about him. But there he was pressed up against his kitchen counter for dear life.

You rushed to him as he crumpled to the floor. You placed your hands over him trying to heal his wounds. But you knew that it was no use. His body was so frail and depleted of its own internal resources, even your magic couldn’t save him. You looked at him with sad eyes; trying to apologize for your helplessness.

“It’s okay, my dear. I have suffered long enough. As Mary said, this is not the end. I’m simply changing state. I have paid for my sins,” he said. The dying man used his last ounce of strength to lean in and whisper in your ear, “There is a false bottom in the box. Inside, you’ll find a note from Mary. I received it after her death from a messenger who said I would know when to pass it along. I believe it is for you.”

You furrowed your brow; unsure of what he meant. He took his final breath as a small smile rested on his face. He could finally feel peace.

\---

The three of you returned to the New York Sanctum to lick your wounds: bruised faces and egos alike.

Stephen never let you heal him. But he was in pretty bad shape this time. As you tended to some of the cuts on his face you felt another pain from his body.

You looked at him and whispered softly, “Your hands.”

He sighed and shook his head. “I hoped you wouldn’t be able to feel them. But I never asked you to heal me just in case. I wasn’t ready to tell you,” he said.

You nodded in understanding and didn’t press any further. After confirming that Cloak was okay, just disheveled, you walked over to Loki to assess his damage. Looking down out to his arm, you saw a set of deep teeth marks.

“One of them _bit_ you?” you asked in disbelief. 

“Yes, like a rodent,” he rolled his eyes and started grumbling curses to himself. You started to heal the various cuts, bruises, and (ew) bite marks on him. When you were finished, you gently placed a hand on his forearm and softly smiled. He looked at you, once again, trying to apologize for his _weakness_ and giving in to the demands of that _sadistic fuck_. But you nodded as if to tell him that it was okay.

Stephen stood up and broke the silence in the room. Asking the question you were all wondering, “Now what?”

You walked over to the end table where you placed the box from the apprentice and opened up the false bottom. Inside was an old, worn slip of paper that you picked up to read. It said:

“The Golden Lotus: indestructible, adaptable, and eternal. Brings illumination, healing, and magic. Created by Goddess herself.”

You paused as you tried to decipher this message. But before you could chew on it more, the cracks in the last wall gave in. Your final defense from your past came tumbling down.

Almost faster than you could process, the past two millennia flooded into your psyche. The memories of your nightmares crystallized into real experiences. _Horrifyingly REAL experiences._ Every terrified breath, every tortured scream, every moment of wondering if your life was worth anything barreled through your mind and pounded at the walls of your heart. Your pain begged to be seen and witnessed; starved of attention in its time locked away.

You remembered.

Everything.

You remembered running. You remembered all the times your powers revealed themselves. You remembered being hunted, tortured, used, and attacked. You remembered Asgard and running from Odin’s army. You remembered the pain, the hurt, the loneliness, the fear. You remembered summoning Death and the deal you made. 

You remembered.

Everything.

Stephen and Loki were hovering close to you; scared to touch you as started glowing a golden light. Not your shield. _You._

The dreams felt real because they were real. This life was real. Your history was very real and very unsettling. This is why you were so scared to trust others. This is why you were so scared to get close to them. This is why you couldn’t let yourself be helped.

You finally understood the small, scared part of you inside who was always screaming in terror. You finally understood the loneliness and hollowness you felt inside.

You finally understood because you finally remembered.

_And fuck, you were OLD. Like...Loki kinda OLD._

Eventually, the flood of memories subsided. You were no longer glowing. Your breathing resumed its normal cadence. You looked up at your two brilliant, concerned magical comrades; feeling completely dumbstruck.

“I was on Asgard?” you asked; cocking your head to the side.

Then everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mariah (or Mary) the Jewess was a real alchemist who lived sometime in the first to third centuries CE. She's credited with many scientific discoveries including perfecting the distilling process and the invention of the double boiler :)


	9. House of Cards

You woke up that day not feeling well. Not feeling well at all.

You didn’t open your eyes yet. It didn’t feel safe. You could hear the sounds of an argument coming from the other room.

“How could you _not_ tell us that some guy’s terrorizing the city looking for _immortality,_ ” you hard a voice bark. _Tony. That was definitely Tony._

“You did know about him. Just not the immortality part,” a voice you recognized as Stephen’s said.

“Besides,” Stange continued, “He’s nothing more than a narcissist with a God complex. We will be able to take care of it.”

“Oh, you would know. I’m sure you’re very familiar with the type,” Tony snorted back.

“Why Stark, I had no idea you were so self aware,” Stephen said with feigned admiration.

Ignoring Stephen’s jab, Tony continued. “You clearly aren’t handling it. You _killed_ an _immortal_ man. And you’ve got _her_ unconscious. I’m stepping in,” he demanded. 

“I don’t KILL unless I have to. And I certainly didn't kill him. I took an _oath_ ,” Stephen hissed.

“Clearly we have something bigger on our hands than we were all expecting. We need to come together on this. Let’s stop bickering,” you knew all too well that _had_ to be your boy Steve.

If your eyes were open, you’d be rolling them. This felt all too familiar. Too familiar.

Suddenly, you felt a hand lightly place itself over yours.

“I know you’re awake,” Loki whispered lowly in your ear. You could feel his breath on your neck. It made your hair stand on end, making you remember the time he impersonated Steve. But this time, there were no conflicting knots in your stomach.

You gently opened your eyes to see that you were in the infirmary in Stark Tower. You looked over to your side to see Loki sitting in a chair staring at you with deep concern. 

With a gulp, you met his gaze and said, “I remember now.”

Steve interrupted a few final jabs between Tony and Stephen to say, “Guys, she’s awake.”

The three men walked over to you. Once again, you were surrounded by this bunch. Although by now, your feelings had changed towards all of them.

“Hey guys,” you smiled. You tried to cover up your own anxiety. Which apparently worked because they each reacted with their own form of relief. 

“How are you feeling?” Steve asked.

“I feel okay. But I have to tell you something,” you started. Everyone looked concerned. Their worry triggered a defensive response in you. You could feel your heart racing and your palms getting sweaty.

Not only did you remember everything from your past, but you also remembered the _trauma_ of it all. Those horrible feelings of loneliness and emptiness started creeping back full swing. 

The past year taught you that you could count on others; that they’d stay with you. But that was before your psyche was hit with an avalanche of evidence that it wasn’t safe you to do that. Literally, _centuries_ of evidence.

Really, it confused you. You wanted nothing more than to tell them _everything_ that you remembered. But you were terrified to let them in - _again_. Before, it was a simpler opening up to help each other. Now, you were asking them to _see_ you and _accept_ you. You weren’t sure if you were strong enough to face the risk of vulnerability; the risk of rejection.

As a result, much like your first time being surrounded by these four men, you buried your pain in sarcasm. The walls of your heart started boarding themselves up. They protected the loneliness as your old friend. It was the only stability you could ever count on.

You withdrew your hand from Loki’s and chuckled; pretending not to see the flash of hurt in his eyes. You continued, “Guys, I’m old. Like older than _you_ old and probably about as old as _you_.” You gestured to Steve and Loki respectively.

“Apparently, I’ve been here for quite some time. ‘Here’ as in here in the Universe. Not this planet. This is my first time on Earth. This version of it at least. Actually, I was on Asgard before I got here. But something tells me that I skipped a few years when I traveled to the blue marble,” you finished. You looked to Loki and his eyes widened with recognition.

“So, what does this all mean? Why are your memories of, well, your whole life just getting triggered now?” Stephen inquired; ever curious.

You shook your head, “I don’t know.”

Tony’s jaw ticked. He wasn’t as close to you as the others and not having more helpful answers made him uncomfortable. Finally, he said, “Something weird is happening and we need to figure this out before anyone else gets hurt. Cap, wizard, let’s go inform the rest of the team.”

Stephen rolled his eyes but accepted his fate as he walked off after Tony. Steve looked at you sweetly. After confirming you were fine with a smile and nod, he followed suit.

You took a deep breath now that some of the social pressure was off. But Stephen’s question still lingered in your mind. _What the fuck was going on?_

Loki interrupted your mental workings and calmly said, “I knew that I felt you before.”

You sat up straight, turned to look at him and asked, “What?”

“Your energy, your power. I’ve only felt it once before in my life. On Asgard actually. I told my father about it, but I wasn’t sure what it was. And now I know. _It was you_ ,” he said with wide, loving eyes.

Little did Loki know, that grain of betrayal was all that your traumatized inner self needed to bring up the defenses full force. She slammed the doors to your heart closed and sealed them shut with centuries of pain; grateful for the excuse to banish any possibility of love.

“ _You_ were the one to turn me over to Odin?” you asked. Your eyes narrowed as your entire demeanor changed. Loki looked startled and leaned back as you started getting up from the bed. He didn’t understand what changed or why you were responding with such coldness.

The walls of your memories might have come crumbling down. But the inner defenses that you spent centuries building flew right back up; begging for any shred of proof to be validated.

_He betrayed you. He was the reason you had to run. After all this talk about his complicated daddy issues, HE was the one who turned you into Odin. He was a contributor to your suffering, your story, and your cycle of endless loneliness._

All the trust you built over the past year fell like a house of cards. The feelings you had for Loki. The cavernous tunnels of unrequited love that traversed your heart. It all came crashing down.

Suddenly, no part of you was _safe_ from your trauma response. It devoured the trust, intimacy, and connection you built over the past year as if your life depended on it. Which, in all fairness, it truly believed that it did.

You thought about Strange and how much he wanted to study you. How entitled he felt to all knowledge about you when you first met. How he wanted to make you his lab rat for his own selfish benefit.

You thought about Steve and how much he thought he was always doing the right thing. But people _always_ got hurt in the crossfire that his team inevitably brought the world. You thought about how _you_ got caught in the crossfire of his need to always do the right thing. If it weren't for him, you wouldn't be in this mess.

You thought about your pain. Then quickly buried the thought because the heartbreak felt like too much to bear. But repression was nothing matched with your trauma. The pain only decided to resurface like a multiheaded beast. You didn’t realize it, but tears were streaming down your face. 

_Stop! Stop, stop, stop! These people care about you. These people LOVE you. Why are pushing them away? Why!_

But your trauma response eagerly swallowed that voice and waited for its next meal. It couldn't let anyone help you; not even yourself.

Loki was standing, horrified, and completely clueless about what was happening inside of you. He wanted to understand. He wanted you to let him in. Even though his own instinct for self preservation said _stay the hell away_ _and protect himself_. He knew that he couldn’t. He owed it to you and all that you’ve done for him - for his heart. He owed it to himself and how much he felt for you. So he stayed...just like he promised.

And then, you surprised him.

In anguish, you turned your head to the heavens and screamed.

You screamed out thousands of years of pain, agony, and betrayal. You screamed out the darkness in your heart with such terror, masked as false strength, that you had never felt before.

With that scream, you radiated a pulse of energy throughout the infirmary. Loki and all the surrounding medical supplies flew at least ten feet from you. You couldn’t let anyone or anything touch you. It wasn’t safe. It was never safe. It was all _a goddam illusion._

Steve and Stephen came tumbling through; practically running over each other in distress. They rushed in to see what was wrong. When they arrived, they couldn't make sense of the scene in front of them.

You standing in the middle of the infirmary.

Alone.

Surrounded by a circle of people and tools who all wanted to help.

But that you’d never let touch you.

Steve looked around in a panic and asked Loki, “What _happened_?”

Still in shock and barely standing back up, Loki speechlessly shook his head.

You looked back and forth between Stephen and Steve. Your heart started breaking into pieces. Then those pieces broke into more pieces. The only way that you knew how to hold all these pieces together - to hold yourself together - was to entomb them in a layered emotional defense of rage, apathy, and regret.

“It was all a lie. You never cared about me,” you said plainly to the both of them.

Stephen blinked a few times in complete shock. _What the fuck just happened in those few moments since he left?_

“What are you talking about? We’re your friends. We’re your _family_. Of course, we care about you,” he said; trying to hide the hurt of your accusation.

“Ever since I met you, Dr. Stephen Strange, all you wanted was _something_ from me. You wanted to study me just like every other scientist and medical professional across the known universe. You wanted to make me your specimen. And when that didn’t work, you tried to make me your own medical miracle. You just keep me around to fix your mangled hands. You're incapable of caring for anyone but yourself. You and your cape don't help the planet; only yourselves,” you spat.

_Stoooooooop! How could you say those things! You know they aren’t true! Of course, I’ll help you. Of course, I’ll heal you. We ARE family. How can you say that to CLOAK? To Stephen? WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?_

But no matter how much your heart begged you, you couldn't let him in. It wasn't safe. It never was and it never would be. The only choice you had - at least, you felt you had - was to completely and utterly reject him. Your pain cast him out and wiped away your history.

“I-I-I never,” Stephen stumbled over his words. His hands trembled. But not from the nerve damage. Because of your horrifying ability to weaponize his vulnerabilities against him. The Cloak of Levitation tightened around Stephen in an attempt to protect both of them from the pain of your words.

Before your heart could ache any more for them, it was swallowed alive by the darkness.

You turned to Steve and stared at him with a painful disgust. “You run around playing hero, acting so holier than thou, when you’re nothing but a poster boy for white male privilege telling the world what it means to be righteous. If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be trying to save the goddam world from this pathetic excuse of toxic masculinity. I'd be saving the world from _you_ ,” you barked.

_Noooooo! You know that’s not true! How could you say that to him? The guy who shows up to every training. The guy who first welcomed you into your found family. The one who was first willing to be vulnerable with you so you could feel safe doing the same._

“(Y/N), please. This isn’t you. Calm down and let’s talk about this. We’re _here_ for you. Just let us help you,” he said calmly. His heavy breathing and hurt eyes betrayed his otherwise composed demeanor.

“I don’t need your help you self righteous fuck,” you spat at him.

_Language! He’d be telling you to watch your language! You’d tell him that he’s such an old man. Then he’d flash that good Christian boy smile and you’d laugh. He’d love the sound of your laugh ringing in his ears. WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS? Why won't you let him help you?_

“I guess I took a page from your book,” you said spinning around to glare at Loki. “Champion of daddy issues and self preservation. You pretend to loathe Odin. But the moment you could prove yourself to him, you went running over in hopes of finally winning over daddy's love: a love you _know_ you'll never be worthy of. You think you can get away with acting like a king, like a _god_. But really,” you stared straight into his wide, unbelieving eyes.

“You’re just a little boy,” you finished him.

_Stop this. Stop this now. I will NOT let you do this anymore. To your family - to yourself. He loves you. You know he LOVES you. Worse, you know that you love him too. You were too scared to admit your feelings. But I will NOT let you tell them like THIS. STOP! STOP THIS NOW._

Fuck, you were an emotional mess.

But then again, trauma will do that do you.

You wanted to continue verbally beating Loki. Oh, how your aching beating heart yearned for a place to radiate your pain. Your darkness had to if it wanted to quell how much you deeply loved him. But this love was apparently stronger than your pain expected. So instead of shooting more of your emotional daggers, your inner conflict settled for leaving.

“Don’t come looking for me,” you said.

And before anyone could respond, you disappeared in a beam of light.

\---

_Shit._

_Shit, shit, shit._

You were back in your apartment and your whole body was trembling. You could barely breathe. It felt like there would never be enough air in the room for you to take a deep breath. You collapsed on the floor and let out a sob.

_What just happened? What did you do?_

You cried as you melted onto the floor; crying out the pain you spent so much energy and so much time running from.

The pain of abandonment.  
The pain of rejection.  
The pain of not being good enough.  
The pain of being used.  
The pain of your exhausting story.

You weren’t sure if you could bear it all...alone. Completely and utterly alone. But you felt safe in the loneliness. You could accept the loneliness because it was the only thing you could count on in your cursed existence.

For much of your very long life, you felt completely safe being lonely and hurting because it was the only familiar and consistent thing you had. It was safe, home, and heartbreaking all at once.

Why did you always have to run home when "home" wasn’t REALLY safe?

\---

Your breathing started to regulate and you sat up straight. Crossing your legs, you started to use a breathing technique that Stephen taught you once.

_Stephen. Fuck._

You really fucked up this time. How could you do that? How could you so cruelly attack them like that? How could they ever forgive you for using their insecurities against them? Insecurities that they _trusted_ you with because of the safety you created in your relationship?

How could you forgive yourself?

In all your years of running, people only ever wanted you for your powers. You felt worthless without them and cursed with them. But these people - these _men_ \- loved you deeply because of _you_ and the beautiful relationships that you built with them.

You felt completely safe with them and _unsafe_ at the same time. Because accepting their safety and support meant risking vulnerability for yourself. So you chose to reject them before they could reject you.

In the cruelest way you could possibly muster.

How could you continue moving forward? The only solution you could think of was to not move at all. 

You didn't deserve it.

\---

You woke up that day not feeling well. 

Not feeling well at all.

What were you going to do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah! I'm sorry! But it's all important. And to make it up to you, I'm posting three chapters so you binge through to see why :)


	10. No Talking Necessary

“What the FUCK was that?” Stephen demanded. He looked around the room in complete shock.

“I don’t know,” Steve sighed; too tired to call out Stephen’s language and feeling pretty much the same way.

“You were the only one here. What did you do to her? What did you say to her?” Stephen asked Loki with his most accusatory tone possible. Stephen was hurting. He was equally shocked and heartbroken by what you said to him. Unfortunately, Loki was the closest available target for his pain. Even though he knew it wasn’t entirely fair, it was the only coping mechanism he could muster.

“She in pain. She’s hurting,” Loki responded quietly; gazing at the floor.

“No shit. But what gives her the right to talk to us like that?” Stephen asked trying to find some explanation to rationalize away his pain.

“I’m going to go talk to her,” Steve said. “I bet she’s at her place. I’ll go over and find out what’s going on.”

“No, I’ll go,” Loki followed up. He looked Steve in the eyes with a mixture of resolve, pain, and longing. Steve nodded his head in understanding and agreement.

When you said those hurtful words to Loki, at first he was shocked. The way that you wielded his vulnerability like a blade nearly destroyed him as it cut into his heart. He wanted to retaliate and rebel. He wanted to tell you that you were wrong and prove himself to you like he had to with everyone else. Like he always used to do.

But then he saw it.

He saw the pain in your eyes and recognized it as his own. He knew you were saying these things because you were scared. No, terrified. No, _traumatized_. As much as he wanted to make this about him and defend himself with all that his ego could muster, he knew that it wasn’t about him.

_It was about you._

He vowed to stay with you in your loneliness until the end of time. And _this_ was your loneliness speaking. Albeit, cruelly. Like you knew how much he needed you all those months ago, it was his time to step up and be there for you.

\---

You heard a knock on your door and flinched at the sound.

“I told you not to come looking for me, Steve,” you called out.

“Not Steve, (Y/N),” you heard Loki’s voice through the door. 

_Fuck. That's worse._

_Heart. Pounding. Faster._

“All the same. I don’t want to talk,” you said as you started to walk to the door. You didn’t want to have to reject him. But you knew you would if it came to it. You couldn’t risk _his safety_ if you let him in.

“I’m not here to talk,” he softly responded as you opened the door. He lifted up a take out bag in his hand, “I’m here to eat. No talking required.”

_Thank you. Thank you for coming to me. For staying with me. For knowing me. For seeing me._

Your jaw ticked as you tried to decide if you were going to let him in or not. Your heart whispered yes. But the rest of you screamed no. Before you could start to say no, your body betrayed you and gestured for him to come inside.

He started unpacking food from your favorite Chinese restaurant. Wong’s favorite too, actually.

You stood a good five feet away from the table as you watched him. Once the table was set, he gestured for you to sit down, “Shall we?”

The two of you ate in silence for some time. Normally, you could sit in uncomfortable silence. But this was different. It was actually pretty agonizing.

After what felt like an eternity, you set down your fork and glared at him. “What are you doing here? Are you here to banish me from the club?” you asked; trying to push him out.

_You wanted him to be there. But you didn't. But you did._

He looked at you with soft eyes and withheld a chuckle. He didn’t want you to think that he was dismissing how you felt. But, wow, you two were strikingly similar. Now, it made more sense to him how well you understood him. It wasn’t just emotional intelligence. It was a mutual knowing; knowing that type of pain.

“I’m sorry you’re hurting,” Loki said softly.

“Don’t use that shit on me. It doesn’t work,” you barked at him. You continued to stab a mushroom with your fork. _Fucking fungus. So offensive._

You continued to sit in silence. Oh, how your heart ached to let him in. How much you _wanted_ to let that shit work for you. You could finally let him in to be with you in your pain, in your loneliness, just like he promised you.

Why was it so hard? You wanted nothing more in the Universe to let the world love you - let _him_ love you. But you’re wired with alarm bells and triggers that screamed anytime someone got close. Why did loving have to hurt so much?

You didn’t realize you were crying until a giant tear fell on top of your now shredded mushroom. Your lip quivered as you tried to hold it together. 

Trying so hard to stay so strong and not let him in.

_Then again, was it really strength?_

You looked up to meet his gaze. Your eyes pleaded for connection. But your body curled into itself trying to protect you. Loki walked over from his chair and crouched beside you. He looked up to you with a gentle type of love and was that... _admiration?_

He saw your hands tightening into fists in your lap. Slowly, he placed a hand just over your knuckles without touching them and asked, “May I?”

You anxiously nodded and he placed his hand over yours. Loki wrapped his other arm around you and placed his head on your shoulder.

At first, you weren't sure if you could accept his embrace. You wanted to do it on your own. You’d become very skilled at doing it alone over the centuries. But now, you didn’t have to. For once, could you let that be okay?

Maybe it was the few breaths you took. Maybe it was the thousands of years of running and hiding. Maybe it was the pure exhaustion of trying to hold it together all the time. But against all of your natural instinct, you leaned into Loki's embrace and accepted the space he created for you.

_It was going to be okay. You were going to be okay. Right?_

As you finally let yourself sob out years of anguish, Loki thought back to the night on the beach. He promised to spend the rest of his life thanking you for that moment. But he now realized was that he didn’t have to spend the rest of his life thanking you. Instead, he would spend the rest of his life loving you. 

_Thanking you was already part of that promise._


	11. It's Alchemy

“No! You didn’t! Did he crush it?” you asked in disbelief. Loki just finished telling you about the time that he turned Thor’s horse into a weasel... _while he was riding it._

He chuckled and shook his head, “No, I promise you that no animals were harmed in the execution of this brilliant prank.” He grinned smugly; still pleased with himself even a few centuries later.

After your intensely emotional day, Loki insisted on staying on your couch that night. The next morning, you felt a little awkward and embarrassed by your actions and outward display of shameless emotion. But he confirmed to you that if you were good, he was good. You were eternally grateful that he had picked up on your way of dealing with being an emotional hot mess.

He already started making jokes about awarding himself the best shoulder to cry on in all the Nine Realms. You appreciated his wit and how easily he diffused any tension. You joked that you’d get him a plaque and quickly realized that you might _actually_ have to go online and order one for him. 

That afternoon, your phone rang and you saw that it was Steve calling on the caller ID. You held your breath; unsure if you should answer the phone or what you would even say.

“Allow me,” Loki said reaching for the phone. He waited for you to nod in consent and answered.

“(Y/N)! Thank God you answered. Are you okay? Loki went to see you. But we haven’t heard anything,” you could hear Steve say through the phone.

“Yes, I am with her now and she is fine, given the circumstances. She’ll reach out when she’s ready,” Loki responded.

“Oh. Uh, okay then. Sounds good. Let me know if she needs anything,” Steve stammered; surprised by the voice on the other end of the line.

Loki hung up the phone; completely uninterested in any sort of auditory goodbye ritual with the Captain. You looked up at him and said, “Thank you.”

To which he smiled smugly and said, “My pleasure.” He could get used to stepping up for you.

You spent the afternoon reading together to soothe your aching heart. No research; just pleasure. It relieved you to escape into the story of someone else and get space from the healing process of your internal world. 

You and Loki sat in solitude together. You always appreciated the prince’s ability to be with you in stillness. And he, in turn, appreciated yours.

Once you finished a particularly riveting chapter, you broke the silence and looked to him.

“Loki, I am so sorry for everything that I said to you,” you tried to find the words to do your remorse justice.

“I understand. It’s okay,” he nodded to you as he closed his own book. He couldn’t tell you how many times he reread the same paragraph. He wasn’t interested in being whisked away in a story as much as he wanted to simply _be_ with you.

“No, it’s not. I used your vulnerabilities against you. I twisted what you told me in confidence and threw it in your face. It was completely unacceptable behavior. You didn't deserve that. You mean _so much_ to me. I am sorry that I hurt you and used your pain against you,” you apologized; unable to emphasize those words enough.

“Thank you. I have already forgiven you,” he said with a small smile.

You started to feel more like your normal self: resilient and whole-hearted. And while you knew that it would take time, commitment, and dedication to your own healing, you also knew that you were completely equipped to do it alone _or_ with the support of others.

Right as Loki was about to resume staring at his open book, your heart started to beat just a little faster. In the past twelve hours, he stepped up for you. It was a gesture you were eternally grateful for. And one you were entirely surprised by.

But even more than him stepping up for you, you were also surprised by how _you_ stepped up for you. You let yourself be helped. You let yourself be seen. You let yourself be _loved_. And maybe, just maybe, you were open to receiving more of it.

_More of him._

You took a deep breath and steadied yourself. It was okay. You were okay. Everything would be okay.

“Loki, do you love me?” you asked. The weight of your tone made it clear what you were asking.

Loki set down his book and moved closer to you so he could cup your face in his hands. You felt that undeniable magnetism that was there since you first saved his life. Silently thanking it for drawing you to the planet he was occupying _twice_ and to his heart over and over again.

He met your gaze with unrivaled devotion. He was _so_ relieved that you finally said something. All this time, he wanted to profess his feelings to you in bolder and more direct ways. But he didn’t want to push them on you. He wanted to share his heart when you were in a place to receive it.

Maybe a year ago he would have hidden; pretending you were asking about a familial love or simply rejecting you or your question altogether. 

But now, _he was different._

You helped him grow. You helped him step up. You helped him heal himself.

Yes, the tower within him crumbled. But it was, indeed, rebuilt with a newfound strength. Just as he prophesized all those moons ago; not knowing the power of his words at the time. 

He didn’t have to be a king or a god when he could be _the_ _man_ that you deserved to be loved by. The man that _he_ deserved to be. Why would he ever need to hide or shrink behind a title or illusion when he had the gift of being exactly who he is? With the journey of the past year swirling in his heart, he answered your question in the only way he knew how.

“Until the end of time,” Loki professed with more certainty and strength than he’s ever felt in his very long life. “Until the end of time,” he repeated.

 _Finally_. 

_Finally. Finally. Finally._

That certainty granted you the permission you longed for. You flung open the doors of your heart and said yes. Yes to him, yes to yourself, yes to _this._ Yes to loving and being loved. Not just for what you do, your magic, or even how you make other people feel. But for _who you are_ \- in being _and_ in doing.

With your permission, your body gave you exactly what you longed for.

You kissed him.

_Finally. Finally. Finally, you kissed him._

Oh, the feeling of his lips against yours was an intoxicating type of magic.

_One that required no sorcery._

He kissed you gently at first; as if to ask for your permission to let him in more. Permission which you willingly and lovingly granted him. Every time you deepened your kiss, he surely met you there.

There was no room for desperate passion or empty lust. Only the simultaneous softness and strength that happens when two people - two people who already feel whole - come together and create the divine.

_Divine love. A generous, adaptable, eternal love._

The true meaning of soulmate.

You never needed to complete each other or save each other. You had already done that for yourself. But learning how to rely on each other gave you both a newfound security and strength. The strength that allowed you to grow and become more of who you are as individuals and as partners. One that will let you continue to do so.

You gently rolled your head back as he kissed your jawline and neck. At first, you let out a light laugh at the new physical sensation. But that quickly fell into a soft moan as you let this man love you.

_Finally. Finally. Finally, you let this man love you._

Your heartbeat quickened as his hands explored the surface of your back and pulled you closer to him. The strength he provided you gave you the permission you needed to truly surrender yourself to him and this moment. 

You ran your fingers through his hair and melted your body into his embrace. He broke from his devoted kisses along your collarbone to look you in the eyes with an even more entrancing gaze.

“Tell me that you want this,” he said slowly and steadily.

_Yes. Yes. Yes yes yes yes yes._

It was equally...

A statement and a question.  
Courageous and vulnerable.  
For you and for him.

"Yes" would never be _enough_ to express to him how much you _did_ want this - want _him_ \- but it was all that was needed. It got to be enough even though it didn’t feel like enough. 

Just like you felt sometimes.  
Just like he felt sometimes.

You let out an excited exhale and gently cupped his face in one of your hands. Upon your touch, he leaned in to grace your thumb with a kiss. But immediately turned to look back at you. He wanted to take in every bit of your face when you responded.

“Yes,” you consented. “I want all of you.”

That single statement opened every single cavern, crevice, nook and cranny of your heart; the ones you knew and didn’t know existed. You were ready to be poured into with so much love. The _true_ liquid gold of all creation that gave you a special blessing of _not_ immortality; but sacred impermanence. 

Transmuting your heartbreak into love: now _that_ was alchemy.

With your response, he picked you up; relishing each breath with you in eager anticipation. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you to your bedroom. Gratefully, you adorned him with thoughtful kisses along the way.

_Finally. Finally. Finally, you let this man in._

In _all_ the ways that you longed for.


	12. The Warehouse

“I’m so sorry that I hurt you,” you said. You let out a deep breath in remorse. “Having you in my life this past year was one of my greatest gifts. I value our friendship. I’m so sorry that I betrayed that and made you feel small, unimportant, and unappreciated.”

Apologies.

You certainly owed a number of them.

No “I’m sorry _if”._ _  
_No “I’m sorry, _but_ ”.  
No “It wasn’t my intention”.

True apologies. True remorse. True ownership for your actions.

Because you fucked up.

But this wasn’t even about you and your guilt. This was about how you _hurt_ people; people you love. You wanted them to know how truly important they are - as individuals and to you - even though you acted otherwise. You also knew that their healing would happen in its own time.

For the most part, your apologies went as smoothly as could be expected. Steve said he understood and that it happens to the best of us. Although, you knew he was still hurt. Stephen was uncomfortable hearing what you had to say. You think he accepted your apology more in an effort to end the conversation than being ready to do it.

Frankly, the apologies didn’t undo what you said or make up for it. But it was a start in rebuilding the trust in your relationships.

It would take time. _Especially for Stephen._

So there you were in the New York Sanctum apologizing to the Cloak of Levitation. You started to accept that the Cloak might never forgive you. It was still seething for how much you hurt it and _especially Stephen._ You could apologize. But it was up to the Cloak if, even if it accepted your apology and forgave you, it would ever be open to being friends again.

It was up to all of them.

You went for a walk with Loki after your encounter with the Cloak at the Sanctum. Your eyes casually glanced around the sidewalk unable to focus. 

“It hates me,” you lamented. Realizing the gravity of what you said, you self-edited. “Okay, it doesn’t _hate_ me. But Cloak’s pissed. And rightfully so. I fucked up. I fucked up really bad.”

You squeezed your eyes shut in anguish. Of all the things you said, you regretted your comment about Stephen’s hands the most. He even told you that he wasn’t ready to talk about them in a safe setting. Then, you threw that pain right through his heart. 

_Could things ever be the same again?_

“I know this is difficult for you. I’m sorry for that,” Loki soothed you. He wanted to tell you that it would all be okay. But somewhere along the way, he chose to only make promises to you that he knew he could keep. Even Loki knew that he couldn’t control Strange’s reactions to you. And especially not those of his sentient fabric. 

Loki hated to admit that lack of control. Of course he wanted to confront both of them. He wanted to tell them how absurdly stupid they were being. He wanted to call them out for not only robbing you of their friendship, but themselves of yours.

And yet, he also understood where they were at. While Loki hadn’t spoken to you about the incident since your apology, he too was in the process of mending his heart. Sure, he had forgiven you. He was quite surprised at how naturally it came to him. Especially since he had a history of being... _not so forgiving._

But instead of trying to fix it, he knew the best way to honor you and your healing process was to simply _be_ in it with you. He gave _you_ the control of how you self regulated and self healed. Loki trusted _you_ to know what was best for you. In turn, you trusted him to communicate what that was.

You stopped walking and turned to him. You took a deep breath and said, “It’s going to be okay. I’m going to be okay.”

He gently wrapped his arms around you and nodded. 

“Yes, yes you will,” he affirmed; knowing he could now make that promise to you because you had made it to yourself.

\---

You looked down at your phone to see that Tony was calling you. You were surprised to see his name on the caller ID and answered quickly.

“This is (Y/N),” you answered.

“Hey (Y/N). You and the wizard need to get over here. I’ve got some more info on your guy,” he got straight to the point.

“I’m on my way,” you said before hanging up the phone.

You were standing in a conference room not unlike the one from your first visit to the tower. You beamed yourself to the Sanctum to pick up Stephen and catch him up. You carefully engaged with only the physical contact necessary to beam the two of you to your intended destination. He could have created a portal. So you appreciated his willingness to travel with you.

_It’s a start, right?_

You and Stephen stood around a table while Stark informed you about the information that he gathered on Virdeus. Tony sent a few drones out to track some of Virdeus' followers and managed to find where he was hiding. Apparently, the black smoke disappearing act was only used when people were around.

Just like they had walked out of the apprentice’s home, they walked right to the lair of the “almighty” Virdeus. Leading Tony’s drones right to...

_An abandoned warehouse._

Not very suiting for a God. 

The warehouse was in a fairly unpopulated area which explained how he could afford to keep killing his minions without drawing too much attention to himself. For all that Virdeus - actually, his followers - claimed him to be, he was proving to be far more _human_ than you anticipated.

The hype of his powers was showing to be mostly cleverly manipulated bravado. He needed an audience. _Damn this guy was thirsty for attention._ You kicked yourself for not figuring it out sooner.

Stark told you that he was going to gather the rest of the team; most of whom you hadn’t interacted with that much yet.

“We won’t need you,” Stephen said bluntly. 

“What are you talking about? You guys have been doing a bang-up job so far. Of course, you’re going to need us,” Tony retorted.

“This _man_ has proven to us that he’s no god. He’s a serial killer. Right now, his greatest asset is a recipe for a potion that will eventually turn his bones to dust. We can handle him,” Stephen confidently asserted. He wasn’t thrilled at the thought of joining forces with anyone. His walls were on high alert.

Tony was about to fight back, but you interrupted.

“So far, his followers haven’t tried to seriously hurt someone. They’re mission-oriented; not sadistic killers. Well, at least _most_ of them. If he was truly as powerful as he was fabled, we would have seen him by now. But he’s hiding because he's just a man. Now that we know what we’re _really_ up against, our strength _and_ powers will be more than enough,” you agreed with Stephen.

Tony chewed on your proposition. The team hadn’t been around much recently aside from a few missions here and there over the past year. Thor was on Asgard. Clint was home. Natasha and Bruce took a trip to god knows where. He, personally, had a few charity functions to attend and wasn’t thrilled about having to spend any more time with Strange than he had to. 

You made some promising points. He caught this loser with drones after all; barely lifted a finger. In fact, he didn’t even have to lift a finger. He just told FRIDAY to send out drones when another pawnshop was attacked as the minions hunted for ingredients.

The world was not ending. Sending in Earth’s mightiest heroes would be like blowing up an ant with a bazooka. Right as he was about to agree to let you handle things, you added, “Plus we’ve got Loki.”

_Bonus! Reindeer Games would be gone._

“Alright,” he said. He raised his hands in surrender. But didn’t hide his lack of disappointment. “But take Cap. And call me if you need _any_ backup,” he said.

“Deal,” you agreed. Stephen walked out without another word. You followed right behind him.

\---

When your makeshift team was ready, Stephen created a portal so you could all go to the outskirts of the industrial complex. You observed the outside of the structure and worked through the different points of entry. 

There was a front entrance and back entrance. The front was a simple set of double doors. But the back entrance had doors and three large bays. Every entry point had at least a few minions on guard.

“Alright,” Steve started speaking in a low voice. He looked around to make sure everyone was listening. “(Y/N) and I will take the guards at the front entrance. Once it’s clear, we can all head in together. I’ll take point on Virdeus. As long as you keep his followers occupied, we’ll be out of there in no time.”

Stephen and Loki simultaneously failed to suppress their laughter. Loki looked at Steve with mischief in his eyes. 

“And we’ll charge in guns blazing screaming '‘Merica'!” he snickered.

Steve turned beet red in embarrassment. He quickly remembered that this was not a team he was in charge of. Being extra support was something he was not used to.

You looked at Steve and smiled to show your support and to apologize for the magicians’ joy at his expense. He smiled back in appreciation. 

“I’ll send in an illusion at the front entrance and lure the guards from the back. We’ll breach from there,” Loki stated.

Stephen tried to work out an alternate plan to provide his own solution. But eventually admitted to himself that this plan would work well enough.

You all looked to each other and nodded in agreement.

_Time to take down a “god”._


	13. The Tower Has Fallen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Major Character Death. Kinda.

Loki’s illusion strut towards the front entrance. The guards were taken aback by his sudden appearance; confused that he would walk right up to them alone.

His illusion self looked the guards up and down as if to evaluate them. Then he broke into a mischievous grin.

“I heard you boys were looking for a _real_ god? Well, here I am. Happy to let you serve me,” he said brushing his hair over his shoulder. Loki's illusion lowered his head and cocked an eyebrow at them egging them on.

The guards cautiously walked towards the illusion; unsure of what to make of the cocky trickster. Feeling uncharacteristically brave, one of the guards lunged at him with a dagger before the illusion disappeared. 

They looked around as they shouted in confusion. Hearing the commotion piqued the interest of the guards at the back entrances. 

The guard who tried to attack Loki’s illusion was about to brush off the incident. But unfortunately for him, Loki manifested another illusion right behind him.

“No touchy,” the illusion said cooley with a sneering grin.

The guard yelped in surprise as he turned around to confront his verbal assailant. Panting in fear, he held up his dagger with trembling hands. Loki’s illusion evaporated only to reappear behind the poor man’s back once again.

“I hardly think that’s how you show your appreciation when the object of your desire shows up on a silver platter,” the illusion said sarcastically.

Feeling his heart about to pound out of his chest, the guard shrieked in terror. The other guard yelled out of pure frustration at the trickster’s mockery.

Hearing the shouts of their comrades, the guards at the back entrance were finally interested enough to abandon their posts. They rushed to see what the commotion was about.

Leaving your team free to breach the back entrance. 

\---

Virdeus carefully judged the offerings from his minions. He picked up each item from their recent spoils. He was so close to completing the recipe for the Golden Lotus. His standards started to waver as he impatiently arrived at the climax of his journey.

“Ugh,” he said in disgust. The minions stiffened their backs in reaction to his displeasure. 

“These aren’t nearly the quality that I’m looking for,” he said. Then he paused; not wanting to wait any longer to get what he deserved. “But they will do,” Virdeus finished.

The minions released a collective relieved sigh. They scattered to start compiling equipment and chemical apparatuses to complete the final stage of the recipe.

Almost at the end of his time as a mere mortal, Virdeus reflected on his journey so far. After years of rejection, he finally did it. He finally harnessed the power and glory he needed to prove to the world that he was good enough.

He wasn’t a mere man. _He was a god._

He thought back to all the work he did to get to this point and _finally_ it proved to be worth it. The countless number of AA meetings and support groups he had to subtly infiltrate so he could prey on the vulnerable. He somehow used his own feelings of inadequacy to speak directly to their insecurities. With a silver tongue, Virdeus convinced them that this would be their path to redemption. If they proved themselves worthy, they too could ascend and become one with the divine.

After many years of being on the other side of manipulation, he learned how to give them just enough bread crumbs of approval to keep them wanting more. He instilled loyalty through the perfect chase; teasing them with a reward they could never attain.

Of all the spells he learned along the way, this was his greatest trick of all.

In his own way, he was already an alchemist; using his pain to create the resources he needed to achieve his ultimate goal.

Virdeus smiled smugly. Soon, he wouldn’t have to endure the curse of being a mortal man.

But his satisfaction was fleeting. Before he could continue to revel in his impending success, he heard shouts and breaking glass towards the back entrance. Virdeus wasn’t sure what was happening. But he greedily scooped up the remaining ingredients he needed. Barking to his right hand man to grab the equipment, the two men scurried off to the lab, a mere converted office, to finish what Virdeus started.

They knew they were running out of time. So they fumbled to throw together the ingredients. Virdeus muddled the final elements to a fine powder; hating the whole time that he had to do his own dirty work. His head minion started boiling the current mixture to reheat it so the final ingredients could be added.

_Boil faster, faster, faster!_

He stared down the pot as if to will its heating faster with his gaze. The bubbles just started to burst upon the surface of the bright red elixir.

_Yes, so close._

With bated breath, he shook out his hands; overcome with the energy of his dream being realized before his very eyes. He won’t feel worthless much longer. 

_So close._

His brief fantasy of what it would be like to feel powerful was interrupted by a sudden intrusion. He leapt backwards in fright as you and Loki stormed into his lab; invading his sacred space. Virdeus couldn’t understand how you got to him so quickly. You would have had to charge to the other side of the warehouse and through so many of his followers; not that he cared about their fates.

He thought he had more time. This wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair at all.

“Stop!” you shouted to him. Your breathing was still heavy after fighting through a wall of desperate, hurting people. The cuts and bruises on your skin were there to tell the story. “You don’t want to do this. You don’t want to drink that. It’s a curse!” you begged him. 

“Say all you want to me. I’m _this close_ to my inevitable ascension. I’m not giving it up just because you asked nicely,” he spat. 

“If you do this, you won’t die but your body _will_ decay. It will decay beyond its usefulness but _you_ will still be alive. It will bring you a fate worse than death itself,” you continued. You hoped that he would do the right thing; even if it was for his own self preservation. 

“I’ve manipulated enough souls to know when I’m being lied to. Your empty threats mean nothing to me, you useless hero,” Virdeus hissed.

“ _She_ might be one of the most powerful heroes in the Nine Realms,” Loki interjected. He moved in closer to Virdeus. Virdeus tried to run to the other side of the table. But it was a simple dance for Loki’s quick strides. He grabbed Virdeus by the collar and lifted him in the air so their faces were inches apart.

“But I, mere mortal, am _no hero_ ,” he sneered. 

A blade materialized in his free hand. Finally, this would be over. Finally, this pitiful, sniveling thorn in his side would be done for. Finally, he would _pay_ for the damage he created, the people he hurt, and the pain he caused _you_. Oh how Loki was ready for the sweet taste of finality: the end of this pathetic excuse of a man.

Right as Loki was about to plunge his blade into Virdeus, a chilling voice spoke in the corner. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” it teased.

Still holding Virdeus a good seven inches above the ground, Loki slowly turned his head. His eyes rested on a sight that he thought he’d never have to see again. Virdeus’ right hand man snuck behind you _again_ while Loki was speaking to bind you at the throat with a sigiled rope. The gesture accompanied _again_ with a blade pressed against your stomach.

“This worked so nicely the first time. I couldn’t help but do it again. Let my master go and your precious hero won’t get hurt,” the minion sneered.

Virdeus’ face relaxed slightly. He silently thanked himself for keeping this guy around.

Loki started working out the mental math of his current predicament. Would he be able to get to you in time? Are you in a condition to escape yourself? Could he distract your captor?

Every option led him to the inevitable truth: he couldn’t risk your safety. Especially after he worked too hard to create it: in your heart and outside.

Begrudgingly, he slowly lowered the coward to the ground. Virdeus scrambled to run behind his savior. Now, feeling doubly grateful to himself that he disposed of his first, less useful righthand man.

Pleased, your captor started to loosen the rope around your neck. Your body started to relax as you leaned forward to reunite with Loki.

But you didn’t have the chance.

You cried out in pain as your assailant plunged the knife into your side. He cruelly twisted it inside you for his own sick satisfaction.

_Wait, was this really happening? Where you really getting stabbed?_

Loki screamed in disbelief.

The minion watched the scene unfold; the scene that _he_ so beautifully created. With a satisfied grin, he looked at Loki and said, “Guess I’m no hero either.” 

Loki lunged to the floor to hold you. You were disappearing before his eyes.

This couldn’t be happening. Loki promised you _until the end of time_. But this couldn’t be the end of _your_ time. He wouldn’t let it. Not when he had finally found you; when you had finally found each other.

After centuries of loneliness, you had, indeed, _finally_ found each other.

This couldn't be the end.

It just couldn't.

Stephen and Steve stormed into the lab. Their timing felt like Fate's cruel mockery. Having fought off the last of Virdeus’ followers, they heard Loki’s scream and came rushing in; unwilling to believe what they found.

 _This was supposed to be easy. How, how, how, HOW! How could you be lying there in Loki’s arms and bleeding out. Bleeding out fast. Too fast for anyone to do_ _anything._

Steve was, yet again, frozen. He was completely overtaken by equal amounts of shock and horror. This couldn’t be happening. Surely, he’d wake up and you’d be telling him the meaning of a new tarot card. He’d take the discomfort of your tarot readings over _this_ in a heartbeat.

Stephen’s face twisted in knots. This was his fault. He should have let Stark help. He should have let _anyone_ help. His own hubris led to his downfall. And _you_ had to pay the price. Cloak tighten around him in pain. Stephen couldn’t lose you when he still had to forgive you. He couldn’t.

The three men couldn’t do anything. All this power and nothing to do with it left them feeling completely, utterly powerless.

“Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t. Not yet,” Loki begged. He pleaded to you even though he knew that there was nothing that anyone, except Fate, could do. “We need more time. I promised you more time. All of it,” he cried into your shoulder.

It didn’t take long for you to realize the severity of your injuries. Maybe you were incredibly emotionally capable. Maybe the blood loss took its effect on you. Maybe you knew based on the faces your found family was giving you. But you understood your fate with quick acceptance and finality. 

“Mmmm, my love,” you mumbled softly. Your eyelids started to droop and your clear thinking started to fade. But not completely until you asked one final request of Loki.

“Be with me,” you whispered before making this planet your last.


	14. Meet Your Maker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters of Death, God, and the Darkness (Amara) are from Supernatural. :)

Suddenly, you were surrounded by darkness. You started to walk around this new black void. The empty feeling inside you was unlike anything you ever felt. 

_Oh god. This was death. A horrific void of nothingness._

“No, I’m actually right here,” Death called to you from behind.

You quickly spun around to see Death calmly looking back at you. So many questions raced through your mind; you weren’t sure where to start. But your mouth opened and out came, “Are you here to reap me?”

“Oh no,” he confirmed. You took a sigh of relief.

 _Good._ _Wait, was that actually good? If Death wasn’t here to reap you, then what the fuck was going on?_

Death continued, “When I heard that you died, I knew what came next. I simply wanted to be a part of it; to help you along on your journey. I thought a familiar face might help.”

_So. Many. Questions._

“I know you’re curious and you want answers. But I’m not the one to give them to you. Come with me,” he said. He extended his hand to you to offer his assistance. You cautiously placed your hand in his before being transported to a beach.

_The beach. What is going on?_

You looked across the shoreline to see a woman adorned in a gracious blue dress. She peacefully looked out to the ocean with her hands gently clasped in front of her.

You turned to look at Death. Noting the expression on your face, he answered your multitude of questions with the only answer he could.

“You will understand it all here. I think you’ll like what you learn,” Death offered you his final solace before disappearing.

The woman standing on the shore looked at you and gestured for you to come towards her. With no other clear options available to you, you walked over and prayed that Death’s words were true. 

“What am I doing here?” you asked her.

“ _You’re here_ so I can explain. I have much to share with you,” she said. She placed a hand gently on your cheek.

Normally, you might have recoiled at the touch of a stranger. But nothing about her or this place felt threatening to you. After all, you’d already died.

“I have _so much_ to explain to you, my child,” she said with deep love in her eyes.

“Child?” you asked. Truthfully, you never thought about your childhood. In fact, you couldn’t even remember it. All you could ever remember was a life of running. A long, long life of running.

_But a childhood? Did you ever have one?_

“Yes, dear one, I am your mother,” she said.

_What? Mother? What mother? This woman was your mother? What the fuck is going on?_

_SO. MANY. QUESTIONS._

“Shall I begin?” she asked. You nodded furiously; desperate for some answers.

“In the beginning, there was the Darkness. She was a cruel, unforgiving force who destroyed anything in her path. But her sole existence was unsustainable. The Universe was imbalanced. It needed the light,” she began. She spoke slowly to you and waited for your nods of confirmation. She wanted to make sure that you heard and understood every word. 

“To bring the Universe into balance, along came God. He was the light of creation. In fact, he created nearly everything that you know. _Nearly_ everything,” she emphasized cryptically. She smiled slightly before continuing. “Everything, but you,” she finished.

“Wait, so who are you amongst these cosmic powers?” you asked.

“I am the one many forget to mention. Mostly since I wasn’t as prolific in my creations as God. But _I_ , dear one, am Goddess,” she said. “I was supposed to be the partner of God. But he rejected me. He cast me out; more interested in caging his sister, the Darkness, and creating a multitude of worlds and universes. I _thought_ we were going to create together. But he wanted glory all to himself. He created man, beast, and monster alike; uninterested in creating anything with me.”

Wow, this was getting biblical _really fast._

“Naturally, I was hurt. I felt rejected. So I poured myself into a new creation of my very own; a special kind of creation that he hadn’t thought of yet,” she continued. She looked at you with a glimmer of mischief in her eyes. “Magic,” she finished.

“You...created...magic?” you asked.

“Yes, my dear. I am the original sorceress. I created magic and gifted it to God’s creations. I scattered it across different worlds and universes in hopes of sharing my own gifts with all of creation,” she said. 

Your heart gripped onto every word. 

_Was this all really happening? Was this true? Could you let yourself start to believe it?_

Your mother continued, “I was fascinated with a particular creation of his: a woman called Maria the Jewess. She was quite brilliant actually and had a wonderful heart. Her particular fascination was…” 

“Alchemy,” you whispered.

“Yes,” she confirmed. She smiled at your recognition. “Mary was committed to learning how to create gold in her attempt to connect with the divine. Little did she know, she didn’t need to achieve alchemic success to do that. I was right there watching her.”

“You were the one she consulted with?” you asked; knowing the answer already.

“Indeed. I was the one she shared her ideas with. We only communicated through meditation though. I was too scared to interfere too much with God’s creations. My fears were only confirmed when I saw the rage her apprentice felt when he learned of our interactions,” she said.

Her demeanor changed as she looked down in sadness. Your mother continued, “I created magic and gifted it to God’s creations in hopes of impressing him. I thought that it would show him that I was strong enough, brilliant enough to be his equal in creation. But he rejected me once again. He saw how I interfered with his creations and banished me from touching them; threatening to imprison me with his sister if I ever did.” 

“At first, I was devastated. But then, my heart began to ache for him. I imagined how lonely he must have felt. He imprisoned his sister after spending centuries waging a war against her and refused to be with me. At first, I thought he created what he did - man, beast, and monster - to love them in his loneliness. Until I learned that he created for entertainment. My heart broke for him. He has so much power, but refuses the greatest magic we have: love,” she concluded.

You let out a breath that you didn’t realize you were holding in. This was so much to process at once. But it felt...true. At least, you hoped it was true.

She smiled at you before continuing.

“So I wept for him. I wept for his loss and his inability to love. And in doing so, I saw that his capacity to love and accept me had _nothing_ to do with my worthiness of being loved and accepted by myself,” she said.

“Instead of allowing him to take all of my power, I took a page from Mary’s book and decided to practice a little bit of alchemy of my own. I took my tears and created gold. Then from that gold, I did was God was not strong enough to do. I created something to love; _someone_ to love,” she said.

“I created _you_ ,” she smiled with endearment.

_It was true. Goddess was your mother. God of all creation God-level Goddess was your mother. What did this mean? About you? About her? About your death? And again, WHY were you there with her learning about all this just now?_

She saw your confused face and continued in hopes of easing your burning questions.

“As a thank you to her, my final message to Mary was to tell her that I created you. My Golden Lotus: indestructible, adaptable, and eternal. I created you so that I could have someone to love; someone who I could pour in all that I had to give,” she said.

Your mother smiled as she remembered your first years together. 

“You were a beautiful child. But as you grew older, you grew lonelier. In my attempt to create someone for myself, I realized that I had forgotten to create someone for you. You needed more than just me. You _deserved_ more than just me. So I made the hardest decision that I’ve ever had to make. I decided to give you all the creation that God had made. I wanted you to grow, explore, learn, and love with an entire multiverse of places to choose from. I snuck you in before he could notice in hopes of loving you the best I could. Leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. But I couldn’t continue to rob you of your own life for my own selfish reasons,” she said.

_You had...a childhood? You had a mother? Who left you? Why had you never remembered any of this?_

As if she heard your questions, your mother continued, “I freed you of your memory of me so that you wouldn’t have to long for home. I wanted you to be free and uninhibited in your pursuit of life. I now realize what a mistake that was. Because you were forced to create an emotional home of your own: a home of loneliness and pain. A home, that truthfully, wasn't a home at all. Now, I must ask you, dear one: would you like those memories back?” she said.

You remembered the last time that you were suddenly flooded with memories. While it wasn't an experience you were thrilled to relive, you figured that you really had nothing to lose this time. You nodded in confirmation.

She placed two fingers on your forehead and you suddenly saw an image of a child version of yourself playing with her in the cosmos. You were playing with stars like they were a sandbox. You were laughing as your mother washed your hair with oceans. You had so much life and light within you. This version of you was so different; so free and full of love and life.

A tear fell down your face as you felt the warmth and love of these memories. You treasured the safety of them; a safety you had never felt before. Finally, you knew your home. Your home of origin. And it was beautiful.

But even amongst these memories, you noticed something was different. In all of these fantastical memories of you and your mother, you noticed something was missing.

“But my powers…,” you started to say.

“Ah yes, your powers,” your mother picked up your next line of questioning. “When I knew that I had to give God’s creation to you, I questioned if I should because of how brilliant you were. _How brilliant you are._ You are the most worthy being I know in all of existence. Worthy of light, love, beauty, joy, and all that the cosmos as you to offer you. So, in hopes of more easily showing God's worlds your undeniable brilliance, I gave you my greatest gift. I gave you magic,” she said. 

Your mother cupped your face in her hands and looked at you with a devoted gaze that could only be matched by Loki’s.

“I gave you power not to make you brilliant; _but because you ARE brilliant,_ ” she illuminated you.

All these centuries, you ran. You ran because you believed that you were worthless without your powers. You ran because you believed that no one would want you without them. But they would only use you with them. When all along, from the beginning, your powers were a testament to your greatness; not a sign it didn’t exist.

Your powers were a gift. Just like Death told you on Asgard.

A gift from your mother who loved you more than anything in the cosmos. 

“My heart broke when I saw what happened to you in God’s creation. The blessing that I bestowed upon you became your burden. I am so sorry, dear one. I am so sorry that you had to live so long believing that you weren’t good enough. When I _knew_ that you are more than enough for that world,” she cried to you. 

“When you learned to summon Death, I knew that I could talk to you. I asked him to help you along the way. I asked him to guide you to another being not unlike yourself who was hurting, lonely, and abandoned by a father - a god - who should have done a better job loving him,” she continued.

“Loki,” you said under your breath.

“Yes, dear one. I prayed that in finding each other, you could both learn to love and be loved. Not to amplify your joint pain, but to learn to heal through it. I am so grateful that you did. So _eternally_ grateful. It will not make up for how I failed you. But I am so proud, so amazed, at how you became your own alchemist and turned your pain into gold,” she said.

By now, you were sobbing. You couldn’t even pinpoint _why_ you were crying so much. But you felt the cascade of emotions and wondered if they’d ever stop.

_The feeling of love from your mother. How she tried to love you the best she could and how it backfired on you and her. The remorse she felt for failing you. How grateful you felt knowing all of this._

_And Loki._

_How she led you to each other._

_How proud she was of you._

_How you’d never see him again._

Your mother brought you into her embrace. She held you as you cried and released all that was bottled up inside of you; feeling safe to let the weight of the Universe finally roll off your shoulders. Stroking your back with her hand, she whispered sweet words into your ear until you calmed down and your breathing returned to normal.

“B-b-but what was the point? What was the point of finding him if I’m _dead_ now?” you asked through misty eyes.

“Oh, dear one. This is the one gift I have given you that I hope never backfires,” she said cryptically. You looked at her to ask for more information. 

She continued, “You have the power of self resurrection.”

Your eyes widened as you realized exactly what your mother told you.

You could go back. You could go back to be with your found family. You could go back and be with Loki. Just like you asked him to and just like he promised.

“It’s always by choice. I never wanted to curse you with the burden of immortality. As I know you’ve seen how that works out,” she said the last sentence playfully.

You let out a laugh; grateful for some humor to lighten the gravity of your situation.

“So, dear one, the choice is yours. You may come home and stay with me. Or go back to be with him,” she offered.

Without a moment’s hesitation, you looked her straight in the eyes and said, “I have to go back.”

There was no other option. 

She nodded in understanding and smiled at your choice.

“I am so proud of you,” she said. She cupped your cheeks in her hands and left you a final wish, “Please, go love and be loved. This time, also knowing how much _I_ love you too.”

“Thank you,” you whispered.

"Of course, dear one."

Then, everything went white.

_For the second time in your very, very long life._


	15. Resurrection

Loki let out a cry of unparalleled anguish. He stood up to overlook your lifeless body. Turning on his heel to face Virdeus and your killer, he started panting with rage.

The idiots were _still_ trying to complete this motherfucking potion. This motherfucking potion that was worth ransacking the city for. This motherfucking potion that was worth _killing_ for - _killing YOU for._ They were so convinced this elixir would be their salvation, they were completely blindsided to the threats right in front of them.

But instead of dwelling, Loki thanked Fate for blessing him with such idiotic prey.

He slowly started walking towards your killer and grabbed him by the throat with an ironclad grip. Seething with rage, Loki was at a complete loss for words. 

_But then again, he didn’t need words for what he was going to do next._

He slammed the worthless waste of air to the ground with a force that shook the lab. He could have used that initial blow to kill the man. But, oh, he wasn’t letting this piece of shit off that easily. Without any control, precision, or desire to have either, he started beating this man to a pulp. His only intention was to keep him just alive enough to continue his suffering; to make him pay for his sins against the Universe.

Seeing the fate of his minion, Virdeus started running for the door. Only to be met by a wall of muscle and magic from Steve and Stephen. They grabbed him and forced him into a chair and began tying him up. They wouldn’t kill him. But they certainly weren’t gentle.

Loki leaned in close to this pile of human garbage and spat, “I will take great pleasure in slicing you up because **_I am one sadistic fuck.”_ ** A blade materialized in his hand. Before Loki could even begin his fun, the man started shrieking with every ounce of energy he had left; unwilling to accept his fate.

Steve and Stephen stared in horror; unsure of what to do. They had no hope of stopping Loki. But they weren’t sure if they could watch him torture this man.

Throughout all the commotion, _no one saw what was happening to you._

The dagger in your stomach glowed with a gold light before dissolving into nothingness. Similarly, the bruises over your body glowed as if you were there healing yourself. Which, in a way, you were.

Stephen was desperately glancing around the room trying to find a solution to what was happening in front of him. Feeling useless for the second, agonizing time that day, his eyes suddenly locked on you. He saw the glowing light over your body and slightly dropped his jaw in disbelief.

“Loki, you have to stop,” he said barely above a whisper.

Without looking up, Loki responded, “Don’t even try to stop me, Doctor.”

“ _Loki_ ,” Stephen said again with extra emphasis. “It’s (Y/N).”

At the sound of your name, Loki froze. He stood up and turned to see your body; bruises glowing the radiant gold he loved so much. His heart raced and his hands trembled. But not from attacking his victim. He couldn’t let anything else happen to you. But he couldn’t understand _what_ was happening to you.

Then, Loki saw something that he never thought was possible. In all his years with all his knowledge and all his magic, he never thought that _this_ was possible.

_Once again, you surprised him._

The cuts on the surface of your skin and the dagger-shaped hole in your stomach started to radiate a gentle glow. A beautiful golden glow. To everyone’s amazement, they began to fill themselves.

They began to fill with liquid gold.

Like you allowed the caverns of your heart to fill with love, the wounds of your body filled with gold. Just like Kintsugi: the art of precious scars. 

You were healing yourself. Just like you knew how to do: in life _and_ in death.

Loki slowly approached you. He was scared to touch you; still unsure of what was happening to your body. He kneeled down beside you and watched in awe.

_Could he let himself believe what was happening before him?_

His face was the first one you saw when you opened your eyes; irises glowing a bright, inextinguishable gold. He gasped in relief and disbelief as you resurrected yourself before his very eyes.

Nervously, he placed a hand on top of yours. You didn’t flinch at his touch. _A good sign._

His lip quivered as he asked the question that he was equally terrified and desperate to know the answer to, “Is it _you_?”

You looked at him and broke into a soft smile, “Until the end of time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kintsugi is the Japanese art of repairing items by filling them with gold


	16. The Tower Reborn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In Latin, “vir” means man and “deus” means God.

Steve called the proper authorities who took away Virdeus, his henchman, and the rest of his followers. Apparently, they were looking for him too. Except they narrowed it down to _who_ he was. But they couldn’t figure out _where_ he was.

Oh, and his real name was Kyle.

Unfortunately for him, Kyle lived a cursed life. He faced extreme abuse from his parents and was horrifically ridiculed in school. You understood where his insatiable thirst for power came from. Your heart broke for him a little. But you also know what it feels like to feel powerless and like you’re not enough. _And_ you have a very different way of dealing with it.

_You preferred your way much more._

Loki, Stephen, and Steve all _insisted_ that you get triple checked out at the infirmary in Stark Tower. You did _die_ after all. You indulged their concern as different medical bots poked and prodded you. Although you’d probably never admit to anyone else, you were relieved that all these tests confirmed you wouldn’t spontaneously combust and that you were, for all intents and purposes, fine.

Your eyes returned to their natural color and the liquid gold that filled your cuts turned to your normal skin color. Your scars, however, glimmered a bit of gold in just the right light.

The next week, Stephen invited you to the Sanctum. He made you promise that you’d bring honeydew boba and an extra one for Wong. You chuckled and delightfully agreed; excited to resume some of your normal routine.

When you arrived at the Sanctum, you left Wong’s boba in the kitchen. You carried the other drinks up to the seating area. But no one else was around. You set the drink carrier down on the coffee table and started to take off your jacket. 

Just as you put your coat down on the seat, you felt something wrap about you; the Cloak of Levitation giving you a hug. You broke into an undeniable grin; relieved to receive an embrace from your friend again. 

“So, I take it you want to be friends again?” you asked. It removed itself from your body and turned to face you and nodded.

“Do you forgive me?” you asked.

“We both do,” you heard Stephen’s voice as he walked over from the other room. The Cloak returned to the shoulders of its master with an extra wiggle.

“Really Stephen?” you asked to double check.

“Really. I forgive you. Thank you for giving me time,” he said.

“You’re welcome. Apparently, I have a lot of it,” you smiled at him.

He chuckled lightly. The two of you sat down to enjoy boba, laughter, and old times. At one point, you decided to share with him a little bit about meeting your mother.

“ _Goddess?_ ” Stephen asked with raised eyebrows. “When does the ranking of celestial beings end?” he joked.

“Well, Steve will be happy to know that there _is_ at least one God of all creation. He might not be happy to know that he’s such a dick,” you laughed. You readjusted in your seat and leaned closer to him, “I want to help you with your hands. But only when you’re ready.”

He smiled softly at you as the walls to his own internal defenses backed down.

“I would like that,” he said.

\---

You and Steve decided to replace your morning sparring sessions with breakfasts. At least for the time being now that there wasn’t an imminent threat to the city or your lives.

Sitting at the diner, you couldn’t believe how much food this man could eat. Apparently, it comes with the territory of being physically enhanced.

“So... _Loki_?” he asked with a self-amused grin. He sliced into a stack of pancakes as tall as your face. Taking a massive bite, he stared at you for your response.

“Yes? What about him?” you asked. Even though you knew what he was getting at, you had a feeling he was more interested in _telling_ you something than listening.

Steve waited to chew and swallow his bite; ever the gentleman. “I’m happy for you two. You’re actually a weirdly odd fit. Like it was meant to be or something,” he said.

_Or something._

“Plus,” he continued, “it makes my life a heck of a lot easier now that he’s not putting snakes in my sock drawer.”

“He did _what_?” you asked barely swallowing your coffee in time to avoid spraying it all over Steve’s pancakes.

“Yeah, he kept putting snakes in my sock drawer and cursing me whenever I’d walk by,” he laughed. "I didn’t mind the curses. But, I’m still afraid of my socks,” he admitted.

_Oh good lord. You were in for quite the lifetime with the Trickster._

\---

One day, you walked into your living room to find a beautiful black and gold box sitting on your coffee table. You weren’t totally sure where it came from; but you had a feeling.

You undid the satin black sash and lifted the lid. Inside, you were delightfully surprised to see a beautiful tarot deck. The cards were all stacked together except for one: The Tower.

You picked up the card to get a closer look. It was breathtaking. The matte black background perfectly matched the brilliant gold illustrations and writing. When you tilted the card back and forth, you saw the image transform. The tower would fall and be rebuilt.

“Do you like them?” you heard a voice behind you. Before you could turn around, you felt a pair of loving hands wrap around your waist as Loki kissed your cheek.

“They’re magnificent. Thank you,” you affirmed.

“Now that we’ve been through the past year together and _you_ have died and literally been reborn, perhaps you would finally consider moving in?” he asked.

You turned to face him and set his thoughtful gift back on the coffee table. You smiled and said, “I’d love to.”

He broke into a delighted grin and leaned in to kiss you. 

_Oh, it felt GOOD to be alive._

Before your kisses escalated in passion, you broke away and said, “You _cannot_ put snakes in my sock drawer.”

His eyes flashed with mischief and glee.

“I have _no_ idea what you are referring to," he jested before resuming his gentle worship of your body.

_Oh, it felt GOOD to be alive._

_Oh, it felt GOOD to be loved._

You were finally ready to do it for a very long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Continue to the next chapter for a special note from me and for more info on how to request a one shot for this series.


	17. Dedication, Notes, and Requests

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A letter from me to you :)  
> I'm [on Tumblr now](http://melanoms.tumblr.com) if you want to hang outside of the comments.

Thank you, thank you, thank you for coming along with me for this journey. This story has such a special place in my heart. It channeled through me almost faster than I could write it. 

This story is so special to me. So I’m going to follow up with a [series of one shots](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22644055) for additional moments that take place after The Alchemist’s Daughter.

This story came to me at a personally challenging time in my life. Like our reader, I poured my own pain into creating this work of _alchemy._

As you could probably gather, I believe that we all have a similar set of core wounds. As humans, we all struggle with feeling like we’re not enough or we’re unworthy. We all have fears like the fear of abandonment, rejection, love, acceptance, and more. 

We are afraid of the best case scenario just as much as we are afraid of the worst. Because the best case scenario is often outside of our comfort zone. Much like how our reader found safety in her loneliness and pain, we run home when we’re scared. Even if home wasn’t safe for us. 

At the end of the day, we are afraid of being ourselves _and_ it's what we most want in this life because it’s literally why we are here. 

Naturally. there is so much of ME in this reader. I actually saw the scene where she meets her mother and self resurrects in an intense moment of emotional surrender and heartbreak for myself. That is when this story was born. 

I hope that you see so much of YOU too. I hope that watching our reader 

  * learn to trust and receive love
  * use her greatest power - her ability to love and be loved - to heal herself and support the healing of others 
  * and develop healthy, conscious relationships _with_ inevitable conflict _but_ working through that conflict with love



helps you feel more seen, accepted, and understood _exactly as you are._

There is immense strength in self reliance _and_ in receiving the help of others. When we learn to rely on others, it creates a dependency paradox where we are also able to come into ourselves more. We can because we have the foundational security to grow and take on more risks. 

You are more worthy, powerful, and valued than I can express in words. In many ways, this story is dedicated to that truth in hopes of helping you remember that. 

I hope to use my work and every part of my expression to bring these types of conversations into the mainstream. It’s what I do for work too (a work that generously lets me take days off to write fan fiction because I work for myself). 

I’m also a huge fan of Criminal Minds and Supernatural. I figure I’ll eventually write some more in those fandoms too. _And_ (if you couldn’t tell, heehee) Stephen Strange holds a very special place in my heart. So we’ll see where that leads.

Thank you again, dear reader, for receiving my work and sharing yourself with me. I truly believe that you, in some way, did share part of yourself with me in the creation process. Even if it was inspirational pings from across the Universe. :)

I hope that I did you and your story justice. 

Now onto the next adventure!

xo,

Melanie


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